noon
`` This paper , '' said a writer of the day , `` was as full of witticisms as one of Thackeray 's dreams after a light supper , and , as for Editors Straws and Phazma , they are poets who eat , talk and think rhyme . '' The Picayune contained a poem addressed to Miss Carew , written by Straws in a cozy nook in the veranda at the Lake End , with his absinthe before him and the remains of an elaborate repast about him . It was then quite the fashion to write stanzas to actresses ; the world was not so prosaic as it is now , and even the president of the United States , John Quincy Adams , penned graceful verses to a fair ward of Thalia . One noon , a few days after the opening performance , several members of the company were late for rehearsal and Barnes strode impatiently to and fro , glancing at his watch and frowning darkly . To avenge himself for the remissness of the players , he roared at the stage carpenters who were constructing a balcony and to the supers who were shifting flats to the scenery room . The light from an open door at the back of the stage dimly illumined the scene ; overhead , in the flies , was intense darkness ; while in front , the auditorium yawned like a chasm , in no wise suggestive of the brilliant transformation at night . `` Ugh ! ''