"Life is mostly froth and bubble;
Two things stand like stone--
Kindness in another's trouble
Courage in your own."
--THE HILL.
Next forenoon, promptly at eleven o'clock, Handy was at Fogg's house. A
ring at the door-bell was responded to by that gentleman in person. Half
a minute later both were settled down in Fogg's Bohemian quarters, which
consisted of a small reception-room and still smaller bed-chamber. The
reception-room was not luxuriously furnished, but it was by no means
shabbily equipped. A piano stood in one corner, a writing-desk placed
close to the window, and a well-used Morris chair were the most
conspicuous articles of furniture. Photographs in abundance were
scattered all around on the walls, and on a table there were enough old
playbooks to make a respectable showing in a second-hand book store. The
two men had not been seated more than five minutes when the bell at the
hall door was rung, and in an instant Fogg was out of his chair and on
his feet.
"What's the matter?" inquired Handy.
"I guess," replied Fogg, "that's the committee. They promised to be here
at this hour. Excuse me for a moment," and before Handy could say
another word Fogg was half-way down the first flight of stairs. The
noise of the opening and closing of the street door was heard, and then
succeeded a buzz of female voices accompanied by a patter of feet on the
stairs. Before Handy had time to prepare to receive visitors, the door
opened and Fogg, his face lighted up with the broadest kind of a smile,
made his appearance, and ushered in the committee, which consisted of
five blooming matrons who were instrumental in talking up and arranging
for the proposed complimentary benefit. The ladies were not young; in
fact, it was a long time since they had been. But their hearts were
juvenile and they themselves were sympathetic and generously inclined.
Handy was duly introduced, and then the female philanthropists and
lovers of art commenced the business which brought them there, somewhat
after this fashion:
"What a unique little snuggery you have here, Mr. Fogg," began one.
"It is so artistic, don't you know, that it is too awfully sweet for
anything," replied another.
"Ah! there's one of the best photos I have ever seen of the divine
Sarah. Where did you get it, Mr. Fogg?" added a third. "That one of
Maude Adams is fair, and that of Mrs. Fiske there in the character of--I
forget the name--does not do her justice."
This medley of inconsequential conversation and chatter continued for
fully half an hour without one word being spoken on the all-important
subject they had presumably been brought together to arrange. They
touched on everything theatrical, according to their lights, but that in
which their friend was most interested. At length Fogg, in sheer
desperation, broke the ice, and in a somewhat hesitating manner
explained the way in which he had induced his friend, Mr. Handy, to be
present at the conference and give them the benefit of his vast
managerial experience and acknowledged histrionic ability in arranging
the programme of the proposed complimentary testimonial. Moreover, Mr.
Handy had postponed an important engagement in order that he might have
the honor of managing the stage at the rehearsals as well as on the
evening of the performance.
The ladies were in ecstasies.
"Oh, how charmingly delightful!" ejaculated the most rubicund of the
committee. "And so you have finally determined, Mr. Fogg, on 'The Lady
of Lyons' for the attraction."
"Yes, ladies, I have. A determination with which I feel satisfied you
all will concede. Revivals of well-known successful plays are rapidly
coming into fashion, and it is well to keep up with the progress of the
times. I might mention a number of old plays managers have in
contemplation but as Shakespeare says--I think it was the sweet Bard of
Avon that so expressed himself--'Sufficient for the day is the evil
thereof.' That is why I have selected Bulwer's great romantic and poetic
masterpiece--'The Lady of Lyons.' Besides, ladies, bear in mind it will
afford Miss Daisy Daffodil a magnificent opportunity to appear as
_Pauline_, a character, ladies, which has claimed the histrionic talents
of many of the bright luminaries of the stage from the days of the
glorious Peg Woffington to those of Leslie Carter."
"How well, how touchingly, Mr. Fogg speaks, and what a fund of valuable
and truthful information he has entertained us with," said Mrs.
Doolittle, the chairman of the committee. "A better selection than 'The
Lady of Lyons' could not have been made, and what a splendid opportunity
it will be for dear Daisy to show off that light blue watered silk of
hers. It is so suitable to her complexion."
"Yes, dear," responded the lady sitting near her, "but will it light up
well? I am given to understand that the electric light is most trying on
blue. Now, don't you think that----"
"No, I do not, my dear. Pardon me, but I know what you were about to
say. You were about to remark that----"
"Ladies," said Mr. Fogg, rising to the occasion and in a polite manner,
"will you kindly excuse me when I venture to suggest that the matter of
toilet is a thing you can arrange between yourselves and the fair young
star, let us proudly hope, that is to be. But as my friend here, Mr.
Handy, is a very busy man and his time valuable, might I suggest that we
get down to business?"
"Quite right, Mr. Fogg," one of the ladies answered. "Let us amuse
ourselves with business."
"How many will the house hold, Mr. Fogg?" inquired Mrs. Doolittle, in a
rather authoritative manner, thoroughly in keeping with her exalted
position as chairman.
"About eleven hundred," said Fogg.
"Only eleven hundred!" exclaimed the stout lady.
"Altogether too small."
"Certainly it is," continued the weighty one. "The Metropolitan Opera
House should have been secured."
"Ladies," interposed Handy, "excuse me for buttin' in, but business is
business, and that's the humor of it. Let me tell you, in all frankness,
that if you can fill the house, take my word for it, as a man of some
experience, you will have reason to congratulate yourselves on a great
accomplishment. Bear in mind, ladies, that benefits are benefits, and
that the theatre-going public take little or no stock in them. Unless
you can rely on your friends coming up to the scratch--pardon me, I mean
box office--and before the night of the show, mind you--you stand a good
chance of getting it, as the poet touchingly tells us--I don't know what
poet--where the chicken got the axe. Them's my sentiments!"
Handy's review of the situation and his matter-of-fact way of placing it
before the committee caused some agitation. At length Mrs. Doolittle
arose.
"Let me assure you, Mr. Handy, we have hosts of friends, and when they
see our names on the programme they will be sure to come. Don't you
agree with me, ladies?"
"It would be real mean if they didn't," volunteered the heavyweight lady
of the committee. "But I know they will."
"Of course, ladies, you know best," replied Handy, "but my advice is
sell all the pasteboards you can before the show, and don't depend any
on the public the night of the show, when you intend to pull 'The Lady'
off."
Handy's practical admonitions and advice evidently were not appreciated
in the spirit in which they were tendered. The ladies' stay after the
episode was not prolonged. Mrs. Chairman Doolittle remembered she had an
engagement in the shape of a pink tea, and must speed homeward to make a
change of dress. The remainder of the committee considered that as their
cue for departure, not, however, without reassuring both Messrs. Fogg
and Handy that everything would be all right.
Handy and Fogg were once more alone.
"Well," said Fogg, "what do you think of it? A great scheme, eh?"
"What's a great scheme? I pause for a reply!"
"Why, the testimonial benefit, of course!"
"Say, Fogg. Are you right in your head? Is your nut screwed on properly?
Is this a joke? The ladies are all serene and mean well--but darn it,
man! you don't mean to tell me that you believe there's five hundred in
this snap?"
"Why, certainly I do, and more."
"Cents."
"No. Please be serious. Dollars."
"Well, let us get down to cases and figure it out. What'll be your
expenses?"
"Oh, 'way down. There's $75 for the house, dirt cheap--the ladies have a
pull with the landlord; $65 for the orchestra; stage hands, $15;
advertising and printing, $60; flowers, $20; costumes, $11.75; sundries,
$10. How much is all that?"
"Let me figure it up. Have you a pencil? Never mind, I have one. Well,
that, my friend, foots up $256.75."
"Why, that ain't much."
"No. 'Tain't much for a Vanderbilt, but then, the Vans' ancestors put in
some lively hustling in days of yore, and the Vans of the present day
are now taking solid comfort and shooting folly as it flies out of the
result of the old Commodore's hustling on land and water. An' now let me
ask you, have you got the dough to go on with this great scheme of
yours?"
"Well, no, I haven't got the dough, as you call it, but I have the
tickets, and the committee propose to sell them to their numerous
friends. I tell you 'tis a dead-sure thing."
"I notice in your expenses you allow nothing for your company."
"The company have all volunteered. Most of them are amateurs."
"And where does your humble servant come in?"
"Why, I propose to make it all right with you out of my share."
"Ye gods on high Olympus, look down on us in compassion and smile!"
spoke Handy in the most tragic voice of which he was capable of
employing. "Has it come to pass that a verdant experimentalist like you,
Fogg, could intimate to a veteran of my standing that I should take my
chances of remuneration from the proceeds of such a quixotic scheme? Go
to, Fogg! I love thee, but never more be officer of mine." Then laying
aside his serio-comic manner and assuming one that more easily
appertained to him, he continued: "Fogg, old pal, I told you that you
could count on me to help you out, and you can. I will manage the stage,
but skip me on the acting. If the stuff comes in, I know you'll do the
square thing. If the receipts are shy, well and good. You'll get left as
well as I. Get the old girls to sell all the tickets they
can--beforehand. Mind now, beforehand. Depend on nothing from the public
for a benefit, and as for the night sale, it won't amount to a paper of
pins. I've been there before, old man, and I know of what I speak. Let
me tell you--some friends of mine once upon a time got up a benefit for
a widow. They gave a good show, had lots of fun, but----"
"But what?" inquired Fogg anxiously.
"Oh, nothing! Only they landed the poor woman fifty dollars or so in
debt. That's all."
"Holy Moses!" was all the response that Fogg could make; but he
evidently was doing a great deal of thinking. In this state of mind
Handy left him.