"what else could you do? You are not running
the papers."

It was not only an evidence of Frohman's fairness, but an instance of
his knowledge of newspapers.

* * *

Frohman had a remarkable memory. One night during Collier's London
engagement he asked the actor to meet him at the Savoy the next morning
at nine o'clock. Collier, who had been playing bridge until dawn, showed
up at the appointed time, whereupon Frohman said:

"How did you do it?"

"I sat up for it," said Collier.

Five years later Frohman asked Collier one night to meet him at nine
o'clock the next morning. Then he added, quickly:

"You can sit up for it."

* * *

Frohman got much amusement out of a butler named Max who was employed at
his house at White Plains. One of the most original episodes in which
this man figured happened on the opening night of "Catherine" at the
Garrick Theater.

The play was a little thin, and the whole action depended on a love
scene in the third act, in which the hero, a young swell played by J. M.
Holland, on telling his mother that he loved a humble girl, gets the
unexpected admonition to go and be happy with her. Dillingham had two
seats well down in the orchestra. Frohman was to sit in the back of a
box. Just before the curtain went up Frohman said to Dillingham, who
then had a house on Twenty-fourth Street, "Let us have some of those
nice little lamb chops and peas down at your house after the play."

"All right," said Dillingham, and he telephoned the instructions to Max,
who had been drafted for town service.

The curtain went up, the first two acts went off all right, and the
house was dark for the third act. The seat alongside Dillingham was
vacated, so Frohman came down and occupied it. The curtain went up and
the action of the play progressed. The great scene which was to carry it
was about to begin when Dillingham heard a loud thump, thump, thump down
the aisle. Frohman turned to Dillingham and said:

"What in the name of Heaven is that? The play is ruined!"

The thump, thump, thump continued, coming nearer. Just in the middle of
the act a German voice spoke up and said:

"Oxkuse me, Meester Dillingham, dere ain't a lam' chop in der house."

It was Max, the butler, who, worried over what seemed the imminent
failure of the midnight repast, had come to report to headquarters for
further instructions. Fortunately the interruption passed unnoticed and
the play made quite a hit.

* * *

On on