I hurriedly left the party and told no more stories that summer.
RICHARD MANSFIELD
Had I known as much then as I do now or had my youthful obduracy been less pronounced the sudden rise to heights of fame which marked Richard Mansfield's career might never have happened—in any event it would have been postponed.
It was while I was rehearsing in "The Black Flag," a melodrama which won much success later, that a gifted journalist, A. R. Cazauran, who was then acting in the capacity of play reader, adapter and general factotum for Shook and Palmer, the lessees of the Union Square Theatre, came to see me. After watching the rehearsal Cazauran decided that I was sacrificing my time and talent with "such drivel as 'The Black Flag.'" When the rehearsal was finished he insisted upon my accompanying him to Mr. Palmer's office, as he had something of great importance to communicate to me. After seating ourselves at Mr. Palmer's desk, he said,
"Goodwin, I am now going to give you the opportunity of your life. We are going to produce a play called 'A Parisian Romance.' J. H. Stoddard has been rehearsing the part of the Baron, but he has decided not to play it, feeling that he does not suit the character."
Cazauran then continued in his delightfully broken English that that was the part he had in mind for me and it would suit me "down to the ground." The character of Baron Chevreal was that of a man of middle age; but a young man, with virility, was necessary to act the death scene which required tremendous force. He brought out the manuscript and read me the entire play. When he had finished, I said,