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Updated: May 19, 2025
At Broadway and Thirty-ninth Street was blazing, in incandescent fire, Carrie's name. "Carrie Madenda," it read, "and the Casino Company." All the wet, snowy sidewalk was bright with this radiated fire. It was so bright that it attracted Hurstwood's gaze. He looked up, and then at a large, gilt-framed posterboard, on which was a fine lithograph of Carrie, lifesize.
She did it with a grace which was fascinating to look upon. "Who is that woman?" asked the director, watching Carrie in her little scene with Bamberger. "Miss Madenda," said Quincel. "I know her name," said the director, "but what does she do?" "I don't know," said Quincel. "She's a friend of one of our members."
"Miss Mason." She looked around to see who it could be. A girl behind shoved her a little, but she did not understand. "You, you!" said the manager. "Can't you hear?" "Oh," said Carrie, collapsing, and blushing fiercely. "Isn't your name Mason?" asked the manager. "No, sir," said Carrie, "it's Madenda." "Well, what's the matter with your feet? Can't you dance?"
She forgot, in part, and was merry. When it came to the after-theatre proposition, however, she shook her head. "No," she said, "I can't. I have a previous engagement." "Oh, now, Miss Madenda," pleaded the youth. "No," said Carrie, "I can't. You've been so kind, but you'll have to excuse me." The youth looked exceedingly crestfallen. "Cheer up, old man," whispered his companion.
There were long notices in praise of the quality of the burlesque, touched with recurrent references to Carrie. The contagious mirth of the thing was repeatedly emphasized. "Miss Madenda presents one of the most delightful bits of character work ever seen on the Casino stage," observed the stage critic of the "Sun." "It is a bit of quiet, unassuming drollery which warms like good wine.
It was with a sense of satisfaction, then, that he saw announced one morning the return of the Casino Company, "with Miss Carrie Madenda." He had thought of her often enough in days past. How successful she was how much money she must have! Even now, however, it took a severe run of ill luck to decide him to appeal to her. He was truly hungry before he said: "I'll ask her.
Carrie read it with a tingling body: "The part of Katisha, the country maid, in 'The Wives of Abdul' at the Broadway, heretofore played by Inez Carew, will be hereafter filled by Carrie Madenda, one of the cleverest members of the chorus." Carrie hugged herself with delight. Oh, wasn't it just fine! At last! The first, the long-hoped for, the delightful notice! And they called her clever.
At last her picture appeared in one of the weeklies. She had not known of it, and it took her breath. "Miss Carrie Madenda," it was labelled. "One of the favourites of 'The Wives of Abdul' company." At Lola's advice she had had some pictures taken by Sarony. They had got one there.
He was so experienced and so business-like, however, that he came very near being rude-failing to remember, as he did, that the individuals he was trying to instruct were volunteer players and not salaried underlings. "Now, Miss Madenda," he said, addressing Carrie, who stood in one part uncertain as to what move to make, "you don't want to stand like that. Put expression in your face.
"Why, the scene between Ray and me when I refuse him." "Well, now you do that lively," said the drummer. "Put in snap, that's the thing. Act as if you didn't care." "Your turn next, Miss Madenda," said the prompter. "Oh, dear," said Carrie. "Well, you're a chump for being afraid," said Drouet. "Come on now, brace up. I'll watch you from right here." "Will you?" said Carrie. "Yes, now go on.
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