Often I woke up in the night, crying out, with tears rolling down my cheeks, the lines of unhappy Iistral ... the spirit-woman Egeria grew real as flesh and blood to me....
"Egeria! Egeria!—"
I woke, time and again, and heard my own voice, like the voice of another, calling her name in the dark.
"You mustn't take the play so desperately ... remember it's just a play ... you rehearse as if the whole thing were a part of your life."
"Some of the boys," I replied, "some of the football boys lost ten or twelve pounds in our Thanksgiving game at Kansas City last fall ... why do you rebuke me for taking art and beauty as seriously as athletes take a football match?"
Two days before the play, as I was walking by the Bellman House, I saw Jarvis Alexander Mackworth standing there, come up from Osageville for a regents' conference....
"Hello!" the dear, good man called, "you heavenly bum! You starry young tramp!"
His eyes were twinkling in appreciative merriment over his quaint phraseology.