"Senith's" folks were staunch adherents of the Mormon faith and were striving to live their religion in all its phases. So they did not rejoice over "Senith's" marriage to a Gentile (as all non-Mormons were called--Jews included). They regarded it as equivalent to apostasy from the faith in which she had been reared, periling her soul's salvation. She was not appalled, however, by the gloomy and hopeless pictures some of her friends were kind enough to paint for her, and bravely married the man she had set her heart upon and stuck by him through thick and thin, sunshine and storm, prosperity and adversity. On November 11th, 1872, Maude Kiskadden was born, within a stone's throw of the Salt Lake Theatre, and before she was a year old made her debut on the stage where her mother was a debutante some eight years before. It looks now as if it were fate, as if she was predestined for a great stage career. There was an emergency and Maude, not yet a year old, was there to fill it. It happened in the following manner. In those palmy days of the profession, the old stock days as they are now called, it was customary to supplement the play with a farce--no matter how long the play--even if a five-act tragedy, the evening's performance was not considered complete without a farce to conclude with. On this particular occasion, the farce was the "Lost Child," a favorite with our comedian, Mr. Phil Margetts. He played Jones, a fond and loving parent, who goes distracted over his lost child. Instead of providing a real baby, as the property man had been instructed to do, he had a grotesque-looking rag baby, not at all to the comedian's taste in the matter. Millard, the property man, declared he had been unable to procure a live baby, nobody was willing to lend a baby for the part--older children he could get, but he could not get a baby, and the rag baby was the best that he could do under the circumstances, and on such short notice. Margetts was in distress. "What, in Utah!" he exclaimed. "The idea!" Where babies are our best crop, to be unable to procure one for his favorite farce. It was simply preposterous, absurd, incredible; he objected to play with nothing but a miserable makeshift of a rag baby. In agony he appealed to the stage manager, Mr. Caine, to know if the farce was to be ruined or made a double farce by the introduction into it of a grotesque doll like that! It would be worse than a Punch and Judy show. Sudden as a bolt from a clouded sky, while the altercation was still at its height, Mrs. Kiskadden appeared in the centre of the stage with her baby in her arms, and in a good-natured tone that ended all the trouble, exclaimed, "Here's Maude, use her!" Maude was indeed a good substitute for the inartistic-looking "prop" the property man had provided. Phil was happy and played the distracted parent with a realism and a pathos he never could have summoned for the rag baby. When the cue came, Maude was ushered into the mimic scene, making her