Stage Confidences: Talks About Players and Play Acting

To those dear girls who honour me with their liking and their confidences, greetings first, then a statement and a proposition.
Now I have the advantage over you of years, but you have the advantage over me of numbers. You can ask more questions in an hour than I can answer in a week. You can fly into a hundred tiffs of angry disappointment with me while I am struggling to utter the soft answer that turneth away the wrath of one.
Now, you eager, impatient young damsels, your name is Legion, and your addresses are scattered freely between the two oceans. Some of you are grave, some gay, some well-off, some very poor, some wise, some very, very foolish,—yet you are all moved by the same desire, you all ask, very nearly, the same questions. No actress can answer all the girls who write to her,—no more can I, and that
disturbs me, because I like girls and I hate to disappoint them.
But now for my proposition. Why not become a lovely composite girl, my friend, Miss Hope Legion, and let me try to speak to her my word of warning, of advice, of remonstrance? If she doubts, let me prove my assertions by incident, and if she grows vexed, let me try to win her to laughter with the absurdities,—that are so funny in their telling, though so painful in their happening.
Clara Morris.