BUILDING A HOME
It is not generally known that the meeting of the International Council of Women held in Chicago during the World's Fair was suggested by Miss Anthony, as was also the appointment of the Exposition's ``Board of Lady Managers.'' ``Aunt Susan'' kept her name in the background, that she might not array against these projects the opposi- t ion of those prejudiced against woman suffrage.
We both spoke at the meetings, however, as I have already explained, and one of our most chastening experiences occurred on ``Actress Night.'' There was a great demand for tickets for this occasion, as every one seemed anxious to know what kind of speeches our leading women of the stage would make; a nd the programme offered such magic names as Helena Modjeska, Julia Marlowe, Georgia Cayvan, Clara Morris, and others of equal appeal. The hall was soon filled, and to keep out the increasing throng the doors were locked and the waiting crowd was directed to a second hall for an overflow meeting.
As it happened, Miss Anthony and I were among the earliest arrivals at the main hall. It was the first evening we had been free to do exactly as we pleased, and we were both in high spirits, looking forward to the speeches, congratulating each other on the good seats we had been given on the plat- f orm, and rallying the speakers on their stage fright; f or, much to our amusement, we had found them all in mortal terror of their audience. Georgia Cayvan, for example, was so nervous that she had to be strengthened with hot milk before she could speak, and Julia Marlowe admitted freely that her knees were giving way beneath her. They really had something of an ordeal before them, for it was de- c ided that each actress must speak twice going immediately from the hall to the overflow meeting and repeating there the speech she had just made.
But in the mean time some one had to hold the im- p atient audience in the second hall, and as it was a duty every one else promptly repudiated, a row of suddenly imploring faces turned toward Miss An- t hony and me. I admit that we responded to the appeal with great reluctance. We were SO com- f ortable where we were--and we were also deeply interested in the first intimate glimpse we were having of these stars in the dramatic sky. We saw our duty, however, and with deep sighs we rose and departed for the second hall, where a glance at the waiting throng did not add to our pleasure in the prospect before us.
When I walked upon the stage I found myself facing an actually hostile audience. They had come to look at and listen to the actresses who had been promised them, and they thought they were being deprived of that privilege by an interloper. Never before had I gazed out on a mass of such unresponsive faces or looked into so many angry eyes. They were exchanging views on their wrongs, and the gen- e ral buzz of conversation continued when I appeared.
For some moments I stood looking at them, my hands behind my back. If I had tried to speak they would undoubtedly have gone on talking; my si- l ence attracted their attention and they began to wonder what I intended to do. When they had stopped whispering and moving about, I spoke to them with the frankness of an overburdened heart.
``I think,'' I said, slowly and distinctly, ``that you are the most disagreeable audience I ever faced in my life.''
They gasped and stared, almost open-mouthed in their surprise.
``Never,'' I went on, ``have I seen a gathering of people turn such ugly looks upon a speaker who has sacrificed her own enjoyment to come and talk to them. Do you think I want to talk to you?'' I de- m anded, warming to my subject. ``I certainly do not. Neither does Miss Anthony want to talk to you, and the lady who spoke to you a few moments ago, and whom you treated so rudely, did not wish to be here. We would all much prefer to be in the other hall, listening to the speakers from our com- f ortable seats on the stage. To entertain you we gave up our places and came here simply because the committee begged us to do so. I have only one thing more to say. If you care to listen to me courteously I am willing to waste time on you; but don't imagine that I will stand here and wait while you criticize the management.''
By this time I felt as if I had a child across my knee to whom I was administering maternal chastise- m ent, and the uneasiness of my audience underlined the impression. They listened rather sulkily at first; t hen a few of the best-natured among them laughed, and the laugh grew and developed into applause.
The experience had done them good, and they were a chastened band when Clara Morris appeared, and I gladly yielded the floor to her.
All the actresses who spoke that night delivered admirable addresses, but no one equaled Madame Modjeska, who delivered exquisitely a speech writ- t en, not by herself, but by a friend and country- w oman, on the condition of Polish women under the regime of Russia. We were all charmed as we listened, but none of us dreamed what that address would mean to Modjeska. It resulted in her banish- m ent from Poland, her native land, which she was never again permitted to enter. But though she paid so heavy a price for the revelation, I do not think she ever really regretted having given to America the facts in that speech.
