"There are three Tivoli's in the world - in Copenhagen, in Italy and here in New York", said Mr. McVitty, husband of Honoria Livingston, the last Livingston to live in the Clermont mansion. Mr. McVitty would sit on the bench outside the house talking to visitors, telling them stories of the house and the family. I went to work at Clermont in 1974 as a tour guide. Clermont is a state park about one mile north of Tivoli with a large home, walled gardens, rolling hills that face the river and mountains. At that time the house was being restored, hopefully to be fully open for the Bicentennial. But at first, just the main hallway was open to the public. As a tour guide, you had to be creative with just a hallway to show the guests. There were some family portraits hanging to be indentified, but the main attraction was the large Dutch door facing the river. I would fling the top open, saying "And this was the view the Livingston family had", and as they ahhed and oohhhed, I would add, "And they actually owned their view. They owned all the Catskill mountains you can see." This really got them going. After two years, most of the house was open to the public, so our tours became more complicated and we were urged to stick to the script, not to use any of Mr. McVitty's family stories. One rainy gray day, the doorbell rang, the signal for a tour. As it was my turn, I got up and answered the door. There stood two little black girls, all by themselves. I let them in thinking what a waste of my time, just two little girls, and I started with the portraits, and so and so Livingston married his cousin, so and so Livingston, and one of the little girls whispered to the other, "Oh, they had to marry their kin." Then and there I decided to give these girls the best tour I could. I pulled out every one of Mr. McVitty's stories, showed them all the things we usually never mentioned. They liked the holes in the book cases made by the family to let the cats chase the mice from gnawing on the books, they liked the bathtub I showed them, telling them the family would bring in the gold fish from the pond in the winter and keep them here in the bathtub until Spring. I showed them the sliding door to the servants' quarters in the attic, and told them how a watchman, new to the job, didn't realize it was a sliding door. When he pushed it to go upstairs on his rounds and it didn't move, he thought a burglar or a ghost was holding the door shut. Then I told them about the servants, young girls not much older than they were, how one was found dead on the grounds below the attic window. Was she pushed, did she jump, or did she accidentally fall? By the time the tour ended, their eyes were as big as saucers, and they thanked me and ran up the hill, holding hands. It was several minutes before the doorbell rang again, and I told John, "Your turn". John had a hangover and was holding his head. He moaned and went to the door. I looked out the window and was surprised to see the same two little girls, but now they had a whole group with them, maybe a church picnic, I thought. When John came back from the tour, I asked how it went. "Oh, " he said, "They asked all kinds of stupid questions about the bathroom and the servants quarters. They must have been talking to McVitty". I just nodded and smiled. Today, showing people upstairs to the B&B, I realize I again go into "Tour Mode". I sweep into the kitchen, waving at the coffee maker, "If you want to make coffee..", then throw upon the refrigerator, "the coffee, milk, half and half are in here...also drinks". I wave at the cabinets, "tea and snacks are in there. You can have anything you find." They follow me obediently into the living room, I wave at the dining room table, "We bring breakfast here to you. Fill out your menus and leave them on the downstairs table. " I point to the bedrooms, "Extra pillows and blankets are in the closets" and I motion toward the closet door in the living room wall, "And in the cubby, you will find the cushions for the chairs on the deck". Cubby, they stare at each other. Cubby, she must be speaking in a foreign language. Then with a Bette Davis wave and smile, I toss my head, and say, "See you in the morning". All the world's a stage, and all the men and women merely players....and one man (or woman) in his time plays many parts. Oh, and by the way, Mr. McVitty was perfectly correct. There are only three Tivolis in the world.