a rambler—on the nod;
an actor—on the job;
a hypocrite?—no, by God!
The Shubert theatres and Carnegie libraries are running a dead heat in an earnest endeavor to perpetuate their respective names.
What sublime egotism and how humorous! A race between a Scotchman and a Jew!
Now if only a New England Yankee could be persuaded to enter the race I would back him to win! He would be sure to erect against every library and theatre a soup house in which to feed the inartistic hungry—and he would get the money, too.
I have been accused by many of my reviewers of being a casual person, with no reverence for my art; a trifler, unreliable, never taking myself seriously. To all of which I plead guilty. I am casual; I never found it necessary to plod. I have little reverence for the art that has never played fair with me.