One summer we took our Property Man up on the farm in New Hampshire with us; one day my wife was trying to describe a man that she wanted him to find over to the village:
"He is a rather stout man," she said; "has reddish hair, wears blue glasses and has locomotor ataxia."
"Oh, yes," interrupted the Property Man, "I seen it; he keeps it up in George Blodgett's barn; I see it every night when I go after the cow."
The manager of a little theater in Des Moines closed an act on a Thursday; I asked him what the matter was with the actor:
"Too officious, front and back."
B. F. Keith had two theaters in Philadelphia; one on Eighth Street and one on Chestnut Street. One week while we were appearing at the Chestnut Street house one of the papers had a picture of me. Not having space enough for the whole name of the theater, they cut it down so that the announcement read—
"WILL M. CRESSY. KEITH'S CHESTNUT."