Made a Swimming Instructor.
He was walking about the streets on his arrival, his hands in his almost empty pockets, wondering if anything would turn up for him or whether he was expected to set to work and turn it, when his eyes were attracted by a gaudy advertising wagon, emblazoned on both sides with the announcement of a new swimming-school. The sight set a train of possibilities stirring in the youth's mind. He was a swimmer and a good one; he hadn't neglected his opportunities in having been reared so close to Coney's isle.
Noting the address of the swimming-school, he hunted out the place, obtained an interview with the manager, and set forth his own accomplishments with such success that he was forthwith engaged as one of the swimming-masters at a salary of four dollars a week. This was afterward increased to seven, and when one day he saved the life of a man who was drowning in the pool, he was raised to the munificent wage of ten dollars a week.
But now, in a city atmosphere again, the bug of acting began to stir within him once more. The sight of the billboards and of the theaters themselves, reawakened the old craving to strut behind the footlights. One day, in poring over the columns of the papers devoted to amusements, he came across the advertisement of one Lillian Graves, who desired a comedian to join the Wild Rose Company at Eureka Springs, Arkansas.
Breese determined to apply for the post, but as the advertisement requested that all applicants should state salary expected, he was stumped to know at what figure to rate his services, having, of course, no criterion by which to gage them. He consulted a friend in the swimming-school, who advised him to ask fifteen a week, and then come down to ten, if they kicked.
So Breese sat down and proceeded to concoct a letter which should have recommended him as a novelist, whatever might have been its merits as an application for a theatrical job. For fiction played the biggest part in its composition. He boldly stated (in reply to the ad's request for information as to experience) that he had been with Francis Wilson, with whom he had played important rôles, and he hoped that Miss Graves would consent to give him a trial.
Imagine the elation of the youth when back came the answer that he was engaged. He was directed to report in Eureka Springs at once. Arrived there, he discovered that his mention of Francis Wilson had filled his new employers with awe. He had been billed to play the leading rôle in "My Awful Dad" and everything in the outfit was supposed to revolve about him.
A reporter from the local paper waited upon him soon after his arrival, eager to interview a man who had consented to appear with so humble an organization as the Wild Rose after having played with Francis Wilson.