a whole
season in New York, and then duplicated its success on the road. This
experience made Frohman all the more determined to keep his own counsel
and follow his instincts with regard to plays thereafter, and he did.

Charles regarded play-producing just as he regarded life--as a huge
adventure. An amusing thing happened during the production of "The Other
Girl," a play by Augustus Thomas, in which a pugilist has a prominent
role.

Lionel Barrymore was playing the part of the prize-fighter, who was
generally supposed to be a stage replica of "Kid" McCoy, then in the
very height of his fistic powers. In the piece the fighter warns his
friends not to bet on a certain fight. The lines, in substance, were:

"You have been pretty loyal to me, but I am giving you a tip not to put
any money down on that 'go' in October."

One day Frohman found Barrymore pacing nervously up and down in front of
his office.

"What's the matter, Lionel?" he asked.

"Well," was the reply, "I am very much disturbed about something. I made
a promise to 'Kid' McCoy, and I don't know how to keep it. You know I
have a line in the play in which the prize-fighter warns his friends not
to bet on him in a certain fight in October. The 'Kid,' who has been at
the play nearly every night since we opened, now has a real fight on for
October, and he is afraid it will give people the idea that it is a
'frame-up.'"

"You mean to say that you want me to change Mr. Thomas's lines?" asked
Frohman, seriously.

"I can't ask you to do that," answered Barrymore. "But I promised the
'Kid' to speak to you about it, and I have kept my word."

Frohman thought a moment. Then he said, gravely:

"All right, Lionel, I'll postpone the date of the fight in the play
until November, even December, but not a day later."

Frohman was not without his sense of imitation. He was quick to follow
up a certain type or mood whether it was in the vogue of an actor or the
character of a play. This story will illustrate:

One night early in February, 1895, Frohman sat in his wonted corner at
Delmonico's, then on Broadway and Twenty-sixth Street. He had "The Fatal
Card," by Chambers and Stephenson, on the boards at Palmer's Theater; he
also had A. M. Palmer's Stock Company on the road in Sydney Grundy's
play "The New Woman." This naturally gave him a lively interest in Mr.
Palmer's productions.

Paul Potter, who was then house dramatist at Palmer's, bustled into the
restaura