The magnet attracting a waif amid forces

part really funny." 
On the opening night it looked to Carrie as if there were nothing to her part, 
after all. The happy, sweltering audience did not seem to see her in the first 
act. She frowned and frowned, but to no effect. Eyes were riveted upon the 
more elaborate efforts of the stars. 
In the second act, the crowd, wearied by a dull conversation, roved with its 
eyes about the stage and sighted her. There she was, grey-suited, sweet-
faced, demure, but scowling. At first the general idea was that she was 
temporarily irritated, that the look was genuine and not fun at all. As she 
went on frowning, looking now at one principal and now at the other, the 
audience began to smile. The portly gentlemen in the front rows began to 
feel that she was a delicious little morsel. It was the kind of frown they 
would have loved to force away with kisses. All the gentlemen yearned 
toward her. She was capital. 
At last, the chief comedian, singing in the centre of the stage, noticed a 
giggle where it was not expected. Then another and another. When the place 
came for loud applause it was only moderate. What could be the trouble? He 
realised that something was up. 
All at once, after an exit, he caught sight of Carrie. She was frowning alone 
on the stage and the audience was giggling and laughing. 
"By George, I won't stand that!" thought the thespian. "I'm not going to have 
my work cut up by some one else. Either she quits that when I do my turn 
or I quit." 
"Why, that's all right," said the manager, when the kick came. "That's what 
she's supposed to do. You needn't pay any attention to that." 
"But she ruins my work." 
"No, she don't," returned the former, soothingly. "It's only a little fun on the 
side." 
"It is, eh?" exclaimed the big comedian. "She killed my hand all right. I'm not 
going to stand that." 

---

"Well, wait until after the show. Wait until to-morrow. We'll see what we can 
do." 
The next act, however, settled what was to be done. Carrie was the chief 
feature of the play. The audience, the more it studied her, the more it 
indicated its delight. Every other feature paled beside the quaint, teasing, 
delightful atmosphere which Carrie contributed while on the stage. Manager 
and company realised she had made a hit. 
The critics of the daily papers completed her triumph. 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 
emphasised. 
"Miss Madenda presents one of the most delightful bits of character work 
ever seen on the Casino stage," observed the sage critic of the "Sun." "It is a 
bit of quiet, unassuming drollery which warms like good wine. Evidently the