I think I can truthfully lay claim to have been one of the very earliest pioneers in the Music-hall world of the system now generally known as “sharing terms.”
This means that the star turn for the week takes a certain fixed percentage of the gross profits, and also takes over the artistes already engaged by the management, adding at his own discretion, and, of course, at his own expense, whatever other turns he thinks fit.
In this case it is, of course, greatly to his interest to draw as full houses as possible during the period of his engagement, and many and varied are the dodges I have resorted to in order to, in my case, bring about this very desirable result.
One of these, of my own invention, I may call the Fake Telegram Wheeze. In the old days, before the war, duplicate telegrams used to be taken at threepence apiece, provided they were not over twelve words, and that the same words were used for the whole batch of telegrams handed in. Taking advantage of this concession, I would sent off perhaps a couple of hundred wires as follows: “See ‘Carlton’ Empire to-night. He’s marvellous. Love. Annie.”
These would be dispatched to different addresses selected at random from the local directory of the town where I was showing, and used inevitably to set people talking: which was what I wanted. I am a great believer in the late Mr. Barnum’s motto: “Talk about me! Good or bad! But for God’s sake talk about me!”
At the Palace Theatre, Bradford, once I was working on sharing terms, the arrangement being that I was to receive fifty-five per cent. of the gross takings and pay the company. When I arrived at the town on the Monday morning I was somewhat surprised to see bills up all over the place announcing a grand boxing tournament for Friday afternoon, at which the finals for the amateur championship of Yorkshire were to be decided.
The manager of the Palace at that time was named Harrison, and, of course, I asked him about the matinée. “Oh,” he said, “that’s a special event. I shall have a packed house, I hope; certainly not less than £150 in it.”
“Good!” I exclaimed. “That’ll mean £70 or £80 for me.”
Harrison laughed, then winked. “Don’t you wish you may get it?” he said.
“Well, of course,” I replied. “But why wouldn’t I get it?”