It is doubtful whether Belasco decided wisely when he accepted the office of stage manager of the Madison Square Theatre, under the Mallory management. His play of “American Born” having succeeded in Chicago, he might have accumulated capital from its success and from other resources, and so happily escaped from an association which imposed on him a heavy burden of exacting labor, without advantage of public recognition, and without adequate monetary recompense. He believes, however, that his acceptance of that office laid the cornerstone of his success. Conjecture now is useless. He did accept the office, and he held it, industriously and honorably, for about three years. The terms of his contract with the Mallorys, as he has stated them to me (the original document, I understand, perished in the San Francisco earthquake fire), were, in my judgment, iniquitously unjust to him. As stage manager he was obligated to render all his services to the Madison Square Theatre management,--that is, to the Mallorys. His salary was $35 a week for the first season, $45 a week for the second season, and thereafter to be increased in the same proportion the third, fourth, and fifth seasons. The contract was to continue in force for five years, unless the Mallorys should become dissatisfied. The Mallorys further acquired, by the terms of the agreement, a first option on any play he might write during the period of his employment by them. If a play of his were accepted and produced by them he was to be paid $10 a night, and $5 for each matinée, during its representation,--a possible $70 a week. Furthermore, if a play, or plays, of his which had been rejected by the Mallorys should be accepted and produced by another management, Belasco was to pay to the Mallorys one-half of all royalties he might receive from such play or plays. In Charles Reade’s powerful novel “It’s Never Too Late to Mend” one of the persons, expostulating with the honest old Jew, _Isaac Levi_, who has declared his intention to leave the Australian goldfields, exclaims: “But, if _you_ go, who is to buy our gold-dust?” To this inquiry _Levi_ replies, “There are the _Christian_ merchants”; whereupon the other earnestly rejoins, “Oh, but they are such damned _Jews_!” Perhaps some such thought as this passed through the mind of the Jew Belasco as he signed his bond with his Christian employers. He has been successful and has risen in eminence, but his experience has been far from tranquil,--has been, on the contrary, one of much painful vicissitude and many hardships. At the Madison Square and at several other theatres with which, later, he became associated his labors were, for a long time, as far as the public was concerned, conducted almost entirely under the surface. He worked hard, his industry being incessant, and it was useful to many persons, but his name was seldom or never mentioned in public or in print. The managers by whom he was employed, while utilizing his talent, may almost be said to have been intent on hindering his advancement,--that is, David Belasco, as stage manager, hack dramatist, and general factotum, would be far more useful to those persons than David Belasco, independent and recognized dramatist and theatrical manager, could ever be, and therefore he was repressed: the terms, above stated, of his first Madison Square Theatre contract and the conditions of all his labor during the thirteen years or so succeeding 1882 disclose his situation. He, nevertheless, made his way, slowly but surely, by patient, persistent effort, by the repeated manifestation of special skill in stage management, by felicity as a mender of plays, and by good judgment in the assembling of companies and the casting of parts. At the Madison Square Theatre he was materially benefited by Bronson Howard’s public recognition of his service in having, with the sanction and approval of that author, made minor emendations of the play of “Young Mrs. Winthrop,”--the first play presented there under his direction,--and in having placed it on the stage in a correct, tasteful, and effective manner,--recognition expressed in terms of cordial compliment, on the night of its first performance, October 9, 1882.