“Mr. Jefferson, I am booked here to-night at a church, and I must begin my hour-long entertainment at seven o’clock.”
“Well, Marshall,” was the reply, “that will give you a chance to see our performance, so we’ll reserve a box for you.”
I thanked him, seized my bag, hurried to a hotel and prepared for my work. The church in which I appeared was crowded—packed, in fact; I afterward learned that, although I was well and properly paid, there had been no charge for admission. When I reached the theatre the house was only half full, but the performance of “The Rivals” was of full size. After the curtain fell I went to my hotel, packed my bag and hurried to the station; I had almost two hours to spare, but there are times when the station is more interesting than the hotel. Soon Charlie Jefferson stumbled over me and took me back to the company’s car, where I had supper with the entire cast.
My train was due about an hour after midnight and as I rose to make my adieux, Mr. Jefferson looked kindly down on me, took me by the ear and said, in his own inimitable plaintive manner,
“I Seized My Bag and Hurried to a Hotel.”
“Friends, I want you to look at this little scoundrel. He comes up here from New York; we entertain him; we dine him for three hours, he queers our house, yet gets a big fee for his own work. We again entertain him for hours by giving a “Rival” show, and yet he is not satisfied without taking my life”—with this he handed me a beautifully bound book, “Memoirs of Joseph Jefferson,” with the inscription in the fly-leaf, “Presented to my little friend, Marshall P. Wilder.”
Everybody tells stories of Jefferson’s absent-mindedness, and he sometimes tells them himself. I can venture to repeat two which he himself has told. A friend of young Joe was making a long visit at Mr. Jefferson’s house, so the comedian saw him at the table every day for a fortnight. One evening young Joe took his friend to the Player’s Club, in New York. The elder Jefferson was there, and on being reminded of the young man’s presence he said cordially,
“My boy, I’m very glad to meet you. Why don’t you come up and see us? Do come and make me a visit.”
But here is Jefferson’s star story against himself.