any longer. You see, I was under the impression people came here to see us act your play, not to study our clothes; forgive me my error."
For which I distinctly deserved a forfeit; but we were far past our unfriendly days, and I received nothing worse than a stern, "I am surprised at you, Miss Morris," and at my rueful response, "Yes, so am I surprised at Miss Morris," he laughed outright and pushed me toward the open door, bidding me hurry over to the dressmaker's. I had a partial revenge, however, for one of the plates he insisted on having copied for me turned out so hideously unbecoming that the dress was retired after one night's wear, and he made himself responsible for the bill.
Sometimes a girl loses her chance at a small part that it is known she could do nicely, because some other girl can outdress her—that is very bitter. Then, again, so many plays now are of the present day, and
when the terribly expensive garment is procured it cannot be worn for more than that one play, and next season it is out of date. When the simplest fashionable gown costs $125, what must a ball gown with cloak, gloves, fan, slippers and all, come to? There was a time when the comic artists joked about "the $10 best hat for wives." The shop that carried $10 best hats to-day would be mobbed; $20 and $30 are quite ordinary prices now.
So the young actress—unless she has some little means, aside from a salary, a father and mother to visit through the idle months and so eke that salary out—is bound to be tormented by the question of clothes; for she is human, and wants to look as well as those about her, and besides she knows the stage manager is not likely to seek out the poorest dresser for advancement when an opening occurs.
Recently some actresses whose acknowledged ability as artists should, I think,
have lifted them above such display, allowed their very charming pictures to appear in a public print, with these headings, "Miss B. in her $500 dinner dress"; "Miss R. in her $1000 cloak"; "Miss J. in her $200 tea gown," and then later there appeared elsewhere, "Miss M.'s $100 parasol."
Now had these pictures been given to illustrate the surpassing grace or beauty or novelty of the gowns, the act might have appeared a gracious one, a sort of friendly "tip" on the newest things out; but those flaunting price tags lowered it all. In this period of prosperity a spirit of mad extravagance is abroad in the land. Luxuries have become necessities, fine feeling is blunted, consideration for others is forgotten. Those who published the figures and prices of their clothes were good women, as well as brilliant artists, who would be deeply pained if any act of theirs should fill some sister's heart with bitter envy and
fatal emulation, being driven on to competition by the mistaken belief that the fine dresses had made the success of their owners. Oh, for a little moderation, a little consideration for the under girl, in the struggle for clothes!
In old times of costume plays the manager furnished most of the wardrobe for the men (oh, lucky men!), who provided but their own tights and shoes; and judging from the extreme beauty and richness of the costumes of the New York plays of to-day, and the fact that a lady of exquisite taste designs wholesale, as one might say, all the dresses for production after production, it would seem that the management must share the heavy expenses of such costuming, or else salaries are very much higher than they were a few years ago.