Hence arises a most touching question—"Where are the girls of my youth?" Some are married—some would like to be.
Oh, my Maria! Alas! she married another. They frequently do. I hope she is happy—because I am.—Some people are not happy. I have noticed that.
A gentleman friend of mine came to me one day with tears in his eyes. I said, "Why these weeps?" He said he had a mortgage on his farm—and wanted to borrow $200. I lent him the money—and he went away. Some time afterward he returned with more tears. He said he must leave me forever. I ventured to remind him of the $200 he borrowed. He was much cut up. I thought I would not be hard upon him—so told him I would throw off $100. He brightened—shook my hand—and said,—"Old friend— I won't allow you to outdo me in liberality—I'll throw off the other hundred."
I like Music.—I can't sing. As a singist I am not a success. I am saddest when I sing. So are those who hear me. They are sadder even than I am.
I met a man in Oregon who hadn't any teeth—not a tooth in his head— yet that man could play on the bass drum better than any man I ever met. He kept a hotel. They have queer hotels in Oregon. I remember one where they gave me a bag of oats for a pillow—I had nightmares of course. In the morning the landlord said,—"How do you feel—old hoss— hay?"—I told him I felt my oats.
As a manager I was always rather more successful than as an actor.
Some years ago I engaged a celebrated Living American Skeleton for a tour through Australia. He was the thinnest man I ever saw. He was a splendid skeleton. He didn't weigh anything scarcely—and I said to myself—the people of Australia will flock to see this tremendous cu- riosity. It is a long voyage—as you know—from New York to Melbourne— and to my utter surprise the skeleton had no sooner got out to sea than he commenced eating in the most horrible manner. He had never been on the ocean before—and he said it agreed with him—I thought so!—I never saw a man eat so much in my life. Beef, mutton, pork—he swallowed them all like a shark—and between meals he was often discovered behind barrels eating hard-boiled eggs. The result was that, when we reached Melbourne, this infamous skeleton weighed sixty-four pounds more than I did!
I thought I was ruined—but I wasn't. I took him on to California— another very long sea voyage—and when I got him to San Francisco I exhibited him as a fat man.
This story hasn't anything to do with my entertainment, I know—but one of the principal features of my entertainment is that it contains so many things that don't have anything to do with it.