It's enough! I don't want any
more!--wait till the last act, and then I'll take it!
"I don't want it _now_! _Do you hear_!" I almost screamed, as he
mischievously insisted.
The bell rang for the third curtain....
The news had come for Iistral that his rich uncle in America had died
and left him a fortune ... now his family would try and have him
adjudged insane, in order to lay hands on the wealth for their own
uses....
That third act went off well....
"But you skipped a few lines in that act, Mr. Gregory," warned the
directress, concerned.
"Oh, let me alone, will you!" I returned, enjoying the petulance of
stardom to the full....
"Remember the fight-scene at the finish," she persisted, "just _pretend_
to strike with the shovel ... you might hurt someone!" anxiously.
"I am going to act the thing realistically, not as a matter of
stagecraft."
She tiptoed away. And I had the satisfaction of hearing her instruct the
boys who acted as guards, and who were to seize on me--in my moment of
physical exasperation--
"Grab him before the cue, just a trifle before it! I think Mr. Gregory
is going to forget himself!"
* * * * *
I swung the shovel high in the air, making at all my relatives, crying
out terms of reproach ... sobbing....
In the audience, everybody sat still with wonder.
The actors scattered from my brandished shovel, just as they would have
done in real life .
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