theater where one can be obscene but not heard."
Joseph Jefferson had an amiable weakness for painting and once presented The Lambs with a leafy landscape entitled "Summer", of his own handiwork. I do not know what became of it, but at the time the work of art hung in the hallway in Twenty-sixth Street, Barrymore overheard a group of members bemoaning the long and idle summers and the short winters of the professional season.
"Why not save your money in winter and live like gentlemen in summer?" he interrupted. "You know," he added, pointing to Jefferson's landscape, "summer is not half as bad as it is painted."
The one man behind the bar at night at Twenty-sixth Street used to have his hands full along about eleven-thirty. One such night an impatient member who had laboriously worked his way from the third tier to the rail, all the while demanding a horse's neck, eventually got the harassed bartender's attention.
"Now, what is your order, sir?" the barkeep asked.
With heavy sarcasm the member replied, "I did want a horse's neck, but I suppose I shall
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