We used to have many amusing experiences with hotel proprietors,
particularly when we were showing in regions in which the Irish or
Germans comprised the greater part of the population. For policy we
made a practice of humoring these peoples and made it a rule always to
be friendly with them.
One of our showmen once had an educated pig that he had named Bismarck.
The pig was carried in a sort of box cage on the side of which was
printed "Hotel de Bismarck." Coming into one town the population of
which was largely German we found that we had pulled a storm over our
heads. The German residents were insulted that a pig should be named
after the beloved founder of their empire, and threatened summary
vengeance. It was only by making many promises that we escaped with
whole skins. But speaking of hotels: In billing a town in which there
were several hotels run by Irishmen our advance agent usually promised
each hotel proprietor that his particular hotel should be patronized by
the show. As a result of this I usually found myself in an extremely
embarrassing position when the show arrived at the town. Of course I
could not patronize all of the hotels, and, at the same time, it was
necessary for us to keep the good will of the proprietors. I usually
went around to all of the disappointed ones, gave them free tickets,
praised their children, their wives; berated our advance agent and
promised better things for next time. In the end I managed to make
friends with them and left them with no bad tastes in their mouths. I
have always found them a jovial and reasonable people. Of course the
hotel that did secure our patronage always had something to look back
upon. It was a day of hustling, of real business, that came only once
or twice in a lifetime. In those days napkins were entirely unknown. At
one place some of our showmen asked the waitress to bring them napkins,
and she answered: "I am sorry, sirs, but the last show that was here
ate them all up."