Behind the Scenes with Edwin Booth

Behind the Scenes with Edwin Booth

Behind the Scenes with Edwin Booth

Behind the Scenes with Edwin Booth

Excerpt

After the death of Edwin Booth, when loving and eloquent tributes to his memory appeared in book form, Mr. Goodale -- whose own sorrow had been tenderly phrased for his column in the Detroit Free Press, and whoever viewed life from the angle of the literati -- suggested that my notes, many of them jotted down in Mr. Booth's presence, should assume the dignity of publication. Against this stood, deep-rooted and strong, my reluctance, born of Mr. Booth's faith. Equally restraining was a very natural shrinking from even lightly touching with my own brief span of theatre-life the fame that still blazons its solitary way across the skies of art. That the manuscript contained nothing that did not glorify the character of the Master Tragedian; that, with the passing of Edwin Booth, its very insignificance transmuted my viewpoint into interest and value, did not shake a refusal in which my husband regretfully if sympathetically concurred.

For our own reading, I did set down a description of this 'happiest season.' Written in the third person with all mention of my name painstakingly expurgated, its only merit was its modesty. A mere ghostly shadow hovered over my paragraphs. I had drawn an outline of Edwin Booth, not his portrait.

Todays became yesterdays. Then spoke Mrs. Fiske. She spoke with the emphasis of finality.

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