Chapter 12 tells how the Butler should dress. You don’t know what a

relief it was to me to find that news. I never had one, but if I do I

will know what to costume him in.

The Book says: “At six o’clock the Butler puts on his dress Suit. The

Butler’s suit differs from that of a Gentleman by having no braid on

his trousers.”

Now all you Birds that never could tell the Servants from the Guests,

except somebody called one of them a Butler and the other a Gentleman,

you can’t tell them that way. More than likely the Butler is the

Gentleman of the two.

But I can tell the Butler. He has no braid on his trousers.

Now, all I got to do is find out how to tell the Gentleman.

If you see people walking around looking down at your trousers, in the

future, you will know they are looking to see if the braid is left off.

DEFENDING MY SOUP PLATE POSITION

[Illustration: I WOULD INVENT A TRIANGLE SHAPE SLIDE THAT COULD BE

PUSHED UNDER THE PLATE]

DEFENDING MY SOUP PLATE POSITION

A couple of weeks ago in my weekly Hamburger, I had the following, “If

Mrs. J. W. Davis ever gets into the White House we will have a mistress

to preside whom no titled European visitor can embarrass by doing the

right thing first. She will never tip her Soup plate even if she can’t

get it all.”

Now comes along an old friend of mine, Percy Hammond, a Theatrical

Critic on a New York Paper (Pardon me, Percy, for having to tell them

whom you are, but my readers are mostly provincial). He takes up a

couple of columns, part of which follows:

“For years I have been tipping my Soup plate, but never until Mr.

Rogers instructed me, did I know that I was performing a Social error.

Consultation with the polished and urbane head waiters of the Middle

West, where I spent my boyhood, taught me, I believed, to eat Soup.

One wonders if Mr. Rogers has given as much thought to soup as he

has to the Lariat. Perhaps he does not know, being recently from

Oklahoma, that in many prominent eastern Dining rooms one may tip one’s

Soup plate, without losing his social standing. I regard Mr. Rogers’

interference as prairie, impudent and unofficial. The Stewards of

the Dutch Treat Club assure me that it is proper to tip one’s plate,

provided (and here is the subtlety that escapes Mr. Rogers), provided

that one tips one’s Soup plate from and not toward.

“Mr. Rogers might well observe the modesty in such matters that adorns

Mr. Tom Mix his fellow ex-cowman. Mr. Mix, telling of a dinner given

in his honor at the Hotel Astor, said, ‘I et for two hours and didn’t

recognize a thing I et except an olive.’”

Them are Percy’s very words. Now Percy (you notice I call you Percy,

because if I kept saying, “Mr. Hammond, Mr. Hammond,” all through my

Article it might possibly appear too formal), Percy, I thought you were

a Theatrical Critic. Now I find you are only a Soup Critic. Instead of

going, as is customary, from soup to nuts, you have gone from Nuts to

soup. Now, Percy, I have just read your Article on “my ignorance of

Etiquette” (I don’t know if that Etiquette thing is spelled right, or

not; if it is not it will give you a chance for another Article on

my bad spelling). Now you do not have to write Articles on my lack of

Etiquette, my ignorance, my bad English, or a thousand and one other

defects. All the people that I ever met or any one who ever read one of

my articles know that. That would be just like saying W. J. Bryan was

in Politics just for Chatauqua Purposes. It’s too well known to even

comment on. Besides, I admit it.

Percy, I am just an old country boy in a big town trying to get along.

I have been eating Pretty regular, and the reason I have been is

because I have stayed an old country boy. Now I wrote that Article,

and technically I admit I may have been wrong, but the Newspapers paid

me a lot of money for it, and I never had a complaint. And by the way,

I will get the same this week for writing about you that I did about

Soup. Now both Articles may be wrong, But if you can show me how I can

get any more money by writing them right, why I will split with you.

Now you took my soup article apart to see what made it float. I will

see if we can’t find some SMALL technicalities in your Literary

Masterpiece. You say I came recently from Oklahoma, while You come

from the Middle West and “by consultation with the Head Waiters have

learned the proper way to eat soup.” I thought Oklahoma was in the

Middle West. Your knowledge of Geography is worse than my Etiquette.

You say you learned to eat Soup from a Head Waiter in the Middle West.

Well, I admit my ignorance again; I never saw a head waiter eat Soup.

Down in Oklahoma (probably near Siberia) where I come from, we wouldn’t

let a head waiter eat at our Table, even if we had a head waiter,

which we haven’t. If I remember right I think it was my Mother taught

me what little she knew of how I should eat, because if we had had to

wait until we sent and got a head waiter to show us, we would have all

starved to death. If a head waiter taught you to eat soup, Percy, I

suppose you were sent to Bordens to learn how to drink Milk.

Then you state, “The Stewards of the Dutch Treat Club assure me that it

is proper to tip one’s plate.” Now if you had learned properly from the

great social Head Waiters of the urbane Middle West, why did you have

to consult the Stewards of the Dutch Treat Club? Could it be that after

arriving in N. Y. you couldn’t rely on the information of the polished

Head waiters of your phantom Middle West? Now I was in the Dutch Treat

Club once, but just as a Guest of Honor at a Luncheon, and of course

had no chance to get into any intimate conversations with the Stewards.

At that time, the place did not impress me as being where one might

learn the last word in Etiquette.

And as for your saying that “anything of subtlety would escape me,”

that I also admit. I attribute it to my Dumbness. But as for me being

too Dumb to get the idea of “the Soup plate being tipped away and not

toward one,” that’s not Etiquette; that’s just Self Protection. As bad

as you plate tippers want all you can get, you don’t want it in your

lap. Custom makes manners, and while I know that it is permissible to

tip plates, I still say that it is not a universal custom. Manners are

nothing more than common sense, and a person has no more right to try

and get every drop of soup out of his plate than he has to take a piece

of bread and try and harvest all the Gravy in his plate. If you are

that hungry, they ought to feed you out of a Nose Bag. So, “prairie

impudence” or no “prairie impudence,” I claim there are lots of them

that don’t do it, even if it is permissible (Head Waiters and Dutch

Stewards to the contrary). It’s permissible to get drunk but we still

have a few that don’t.

Now, Percy, suppose they all did as is permitted. Picture a big dinner

with everybody with their soup plates all balanced up on edge, with

one hand holding them up and the other hand with the spoon rounding up

what little soup was left. They would resemble a lot of plate jugglers

instead of Dinner Guests. Why if that was the universal custom, I

would invent a triangle shape slide that could be pushed under the

plate, so it would permit you to have one hand free, in case you were

sitting next to your own wife, or if by chance you might want to use

your napkin. According to your hungry plan, every Guest practically

handcuffs himself during the latter end of the soup course. He is

absolutely helpless. So don’t ask head waiters and stewards what to do,

Percy, look around yourself. You will find hundreds of them that are

satisfied with just what Soup they can get on the level. Why I bet you

are a fellow Percy, if you took Castor Oil, you would want to lick the

spoon.

You know, Percy, I might know more about Etiquette than you think I

do. I wrote a review on Emily Post’s Book on Etiquette, and it was

recopied in the Literary Digest (and by the way it did not mention

the Digest’s name, and it is unusual for them to re-copy anything

unless they are mentioned in the article). Now have you or any of your

Mid-Western head waiters, or retinue of Stewards, ever been asked to

write a criticism on such an authoritative work as that? So you see I

am somewhat of a Critic myself. I am the Hammond of the etiquette Book

business.

Another thing, Percy, I spoke of a particular case; I mentioned Mrs.

Davis. Well, I happened to see the Lady in question eat soup, and

she did not try and corral the whole output. She perhaps knew it was

permissible, still, she did not seem eager to take advantage of it.

Now, you speak of my friend, Tom Mix, where he says, “he et two hours

and did not recognize anything he et but an olive.” Now, that is bad

Grammar, even I will admit, but it’s mighty good eating. Don’t you

kinder envy him, that he has lived his life physically so that now he

can eat for two hours. I bet you that you would trade your knowledge

of the English language now for his constitution. Tipping that soup

plate at all your meals for years is what put that front on you, Perc.

Leave some, that’s why I am trying to prove to you it’s permissible

to tip the plate, but it’s bad physically. The fact that Tom has done

something to be given a dinner for, should make him immune from attacks

from the Press Table.

Vice Dawes, the profanity end of Coolidge’s Campaign, just went

through New York last week cussing everything, and everybody, a Hell’n

Maria’ing all over the place. But he has other qualities to offset his

cussing, so personally I don’t think this word, “et” on Mix’s part will

seriously affect the drawing power of his pictures. You see, Percy,

Tom said, “et,” but you know better than him what to say. Still, if a

Western Picture was to be made to amuse the entire World, I would trust

Tom’s judgment to yours. You know, Percy, everybody is ignorant, only

on different subjects.

So, Perc, you string with the High Brows, but I am going to stick to

the Low Brows, because I know I am at home with them. For remember,

if it was not for us Low Brows, you high brows would have no one to

discuss. But God love you, Percy, and if you ever want to leave them

and come back to us where you started, we will all be glad to welcome

you, even if you do feel like you are slumming. You must remember,

Perc, that the question of the World today is, not how to _eat_ soup,

but how to _get_ soup to eat.

HELPING THE GIRLS WITH THEIR INCOME TAXES

HELPING THE GIRLS WITH THEIR INCOME TAXES

Well, I haven’t had much time lately to dope out many new jokes. I have

been helping the Girls in the Follies make out their Income Tax. A

vital question come up, do Presents come under the heading of Salary?

You know that’s a mighty big item with us. When I say Us, I don’t mean

Me, as no one has given me anything yet, but I stick around in case a

few crumbs drop.

I have been looking for a bribe from some of our prominent men to keep

their name out of my act, but the only ones who even speak to me are

the ones I mention. So I guess about the only way you can get a Man

sore nowadays is to ignore him.

One Girl wanted to charge off Taxi Cab fares to and from the Theatre. I

told her she couldn’t do that. She said, “Well, how am I to get there?”

I said, “Well, as far as the Government is concerned, you can come on

the Subway.” She said, “Oh! What is the Subway?”

Another Girl who has been with the various Follies for ten years

wanted to know what She could charge off for Depreciation. And she was

absolutely right because if, after being with them for that long, and

you haven’t married at least one Millionaire, you certainly have a

legitimate claim for Depreciation.

I reminded one of the Girls that she had neglected to include two of

her Alimony allowances. She said, “Do I have to put them all in?”

I said, “Why, certainly you do.” The Girl said, “Well, how did the

Government keep track of them? I couldn’t.”

One Girl charged off a non-providing Husband under the heading of

Bad Debts. We charged off all Cigarettes smoked in Public under the

heading, Advertising.

One Sweetheart who paid for a Girl’s Dinner every night, went

thoroughly broke in Wall Street by trying to corner Canned Tomatoes in

the late Piggledy-Wiggledy uprising. We figured up what the dinners

would be for the rest of the year and charged him off as a Total Loss.

And right here I want to say what an honest bunch these Girls are. They

don’t want to beat the Government out of a thing. One Girl who had

been away for a few weeks last winter to Palm Beach left a Husband in

the good hands of her Girl Chum. When she returned the Girl Chum gave

her a Two Thousand Dollar Bracelet. Now she wanted to include this

Item in her Tax and we couldn’t figure out where to put it. Finally we

decided it was Rents, so we put it in, “For Rent, of One Husband, two

Thousand Dollars.”

Of course while the girls had these tremendous salaries I was able to

help on account of my technical knowledge of them (as I dress with

their Chauffeurs), and on account of my equal knowledge of making out

an Income Tax, with any man in the World. As none of us know a thing

about it.

Look what I saved them on Bathing Suits! I had them all claim they

bought various Suits. And I defy even a Congressional Investigating

Committee (and you certainly can’t pick any more useless Body of men

than they are), I defy them to say that a Bathing Suit on a Beautiful

Girl don’t come under the heading of Legitimate Advertising.

Now, as I say, these Girls all wanted to do what was right as they

could afford to but this Income Tax has not acted that way with the

Men. The Income Tax has made more Liars out of the American people

than Golf has.

Even when you make one out on the level, you don’t know when it’s

through if you are a Crook or a Martyr.

Of course, people are getting smarter nowadays; they are letting

Lawyers, instead of their conscience, be their Guide.

There is some talk of lowering it, and they will have to. People are

not making enough to pay it.

And, by the way, the only way they will ever stop Bootlegging, too,

is to make them pay an Income Tax. (At present it is a Tax exempt

Industry.) Income Tax has stopped every other Industry, so there is no

reason why it won’t stop Bootlegging.

Of course, some of our more thrifty Girls have followed the example of

their Male Tax Dodging friends and Incorporated (as the rate is lower

on Corporations). Wall Street attended to that little matter when they

were drawing the Tax Bill up in Washington.

These Girls had to do that, the same as men, to protect their Salaries.

Of course, the big Gamble in buying into these Individual Corporations

is the Lucky chance that she might make one or more wealthy marriages

during the year. When of course, her being Incorporated, all she gets

comes under the heading of Income, and you, as a Stockholder, get your

Pro Rata Share. If she lands a big one you have struck Oil. Then, on

the other hand, she may marry for love. In that case you have brought

in a Duster.

For example, down on the Exchange you will find the Anastasia Reed,

incorporated, along with General Motors and Blue Jay Corn Plasters. At

the end of the year, the Stockholders, after adding up the Salary along

with the accumulated Alimony, can either declare a dividend, or vote a

Dinner and put the Undivided profits back into the growing Concern.

Now, I can’t tell you the name but I was lucky enough to land 5 shares

just before a Blonde Corporation married a Multi-Millionaire who was

over 70 years of age. Us Stockholders have figured out at our last

meeting that if he dies when we think he will (and we have no reason to

believe otherwise, unless the Poison acts as a Monkey Gland) why, just

those 5 shares will make me independent for life.

I don’t want to use this space as an ad, but I have been able for a

small monetary fee to tip off my friends just what stock to buy. You

see I am in a position to judge as I watch who is in the front row

every night and I can just tell when Mendelssohn’s Spring Song will

start percolating for some particular Corporation. Now, at the present

time, there is every night in the front row a Millionaire Oklahoma Oil

Magnate and a Bootlegger, both angling for the same Corporation. If

this Bootlegging person lands her, why her Stockholders are made for

life, but if the Oil Magnate comes through (for sometimes these female

Corporations are swayed by sentiment), why the stock won’t be worth

within a thousand Percent of what it will be if the Bootheel Party

lands.

Now, take me personally; this Income Tax thing don’t bother me at all.

You are allowed 200 dollars for each Child, and my Children and my

Income are just coming out even now.

THE GREATEST DOCUMENT IN AMERICAN LITERATURE

[Illustration: SONG WRITERS SHOULD BE SEGREGATED AND MADE TO SING THEIR

SONGS TO EACH OTHER.]

THE GREATEST DOCUMENT IN AMERICAN LITERATURE

The subject for this brainy Editorial is resolved that, “Is the Song

Yes We Have no Bananas the greatest or the worst Song that America ever

had?”

I have read quite a lot in the papers about the degeneration of

America by falling for a thing like it. Some lay it to the effects of

Prohibition, some say it is the after-effects of War, that it is liable

to follow every big war. I see where some have written editorials on

the Song claiming that things are always in an unsettled state the

year before a Presidential Election. I claim it’s due to none of these

causes at all; neither is it due to the French occupation of the Ruhr.

I claim that it is the greatest document that has been penned in the

entire History of American Literature.

And there is only one way to account for its popularity, and that is

how you account for anything’s popularity, and that is because it has

Merit. Real down to earth merit, more than anything written in the last

decade. The World was just hungry for something good and when this

Genius come along and got right down and wrote on a subject that every

Human being is familiar with, and that was Vegetables, Bologna, Eggs

and Bananas, why he simply hit us where we live. You know a War Song

will only appeal to people that are interested in war, a Love Song to

those who are in love, A Mammy Song to nobody at all, but when you get

down and write of Cabbages, Potatoes, and Tomatoes, you just about hit

on a Universal subject.

You see, we had been eating these things all our lives but no one had

ever thought of paying homage to them in Words and Harmony. It opens up

a new field for Song Writers. I look for an epidemic of Corned Beef,

Liver and Bacon, Soup and Hash Songs to flood the Market. So more power

to an originator. Did you ever stop to realize that that Song has

attracted more attention than anything that has taken place in this

Country since Valentino gave up the screen for a mud Face preparation?

Magnus Johnson of Wisconsin or Minnesota (they ought to put those

States together; nobody can ever remember which one anything ever

happens in, generally the same thing happens in both of them); well as

I say, Magnus was unfortunate enough to be elected to the United States

Senate at a time when Bananas was at its height. Ten thousand people

can sing the song that dont know that Magnus can milk a Cow with one

hand and broadcast a Political speech with the other. Millions can hum

the Song that cant tell you what Lloyd George is sore at England about.

Hiram Johnson arrived from Europe a Presidential possibility, and spoke

to 2 thousand people. The creator of Bananas to Music, penned one Gem

of constructive thought, and spoke not to two thousand but to one

hundred and ten million.

Then some Editorial Newspaper writer has the nerve to sneer at this

marvelous Song, when perhaps his writings never cross the County line.

Why, Italy has already made arrangements on account of his honoring

their National Diet to place his name alongside of Michael Angelo,

Garibaldi, and Louis Firpo. It is already bringing on International

complications. England is sore because he didn’t say something about

Tea and Cake.

If we had had a Man like that to write our National Anthem somebody

could learn it. It wouldn’t take three wars to learn the words.

Mother has been done to death in Songs and not enough consideration

shown her in real life. We thought when we sang about her we had paid

her all the respect there was. I tell you, conditions were Just Ripe

for a good fruit Song.

Geo. M. Cohan wore out more Flags than a war waving them to music. He

transferred the Flag from Cloth to Paper, he made it a two verse and

Chorus affair. Now George was original. He saw an idea; he knew that a

big percentage of the American people had seen the flag, so that would

give him a subject to write on that people knew about. But look what a

Universal subject this Bird hit on. There are thousands of Foreigners

landing here daily that know Spin-ISH and HON-ions, that dont know an

American Flag from a Navajo Blanket.

Did you ever just dissect the Words to some of our so-called Popular

Songs? One has the words “Its not raining Rain, its raining Violets.”

Now can you imagine any more of a Cuckoo idea than that? You cant

hardly raise the things, much less Rain em. Now which do we owe the

most to, the Violet or the Banana? Even such a Genius as Geo. M. Cohan

himself has a Song, “You remind me of my Mother when Mother was A Girl

like you.” How can any man remember his Mother when she was a girl?

Its a Physical impossibility. You would have had to be born almost

simultaneously with your Mother.

Now on the other hand take the Banana Classic. “We just killed a Pony

so try our Bologna, It’s flavored with Oats and Hay.” Now that’s not

only good Poetry but his honesty should be rewarded. He is on the

level, he is telling you just what you get. Then those History-making

lines, “Our Hen Fruit have you tried em, real live Chickens inside em.”

Now I think in the rhyming line that is a positive Gem, and will live

when Gungha Din has lost his Hot Water Bottle. That shows originality.

He is not just simply going along rhyming Girl and Pearl, Beauty and

Cutey, Bees and Knees.

This Boy has got the stuff. Get this one and then read all through

Shakespeare and see if he ever scrambled up a mess of words like these,

“Try our Walnuts and Co- CO- Nuts, there aint many nuts like They.”

Now just off-hand you would think that it is purely a commercial Song

with no tinge of Sentiment, but dont you believe it. Read this: “And

you can take home for the WIM-mens, nice juicy per-Sim-mons.” Now that

shows thoughtfulness for the fair sex and also excellent judgment in

the choice of a Delicacy. Then there is rhythm and harmony that would

do credit to a Walt Whitman, so I defy you to show me a single song

with so much downright merit to it as this has.

You know, it dont take much to rank a man away up if he is just lucky

in coining the right words. Now take for instance Horace Greeley, I

think it was, or was it W. G. McAdoo, who said “go West, young man.”

Now that took no original thought at the time it was uttered. There

was no other place for a man to go, still it has lived. Now you mean

to tell me that a commonplace remark like that has the real backbone

of this one: “Our Grapefruit I’ll bet you, Is not going to wet you, we

drain them out every day.” Now which do you think it would take you the

longest to think of, that or “Go West, Young Man.”

Some other fellow made himself by saying “War is Hell.” Now what

was original about that? Anyone who had been in one could have told

you that, and today he has one of the biggest Statues in New York.

According to that, what should this Banana man get? He should be voted

the Poet Lariet of America.

Now mind you, I am not upholding this man because I hold any briefs

for the Songwriters. I think they are in a class with the After Dinner

speakers. They should be like Vice used to be in some towns. _They

should be segregated off to themselves_ and not allowed to associate

with people at all, _and should be made to sing these songs to each

other_. That is the only way you will ever do away with the Song

writing business.

Another thing that has made it bad is these People that used to send

Scenarios to Moving Picture Studios, after getting them back have

turned them into Songs. Its been a Godsend to the Picture business but

a blow to the Music business. And those Mammy Songs--those writers

should have all been banished to Siberia, and as they went through

on their way to Siberia dont let them stop in Russia to see their

Mammy. But when one does come along and display real talent as this

one has proven, I think he should be encouraged. Some man said years

ago that he “cared not who fought their Countries’ Wars as long as he

could write their Songs.” But of the two our Songs have been the most

devastating.

I understand this Boy was a Drummer in a Jazz Band before this World

renown hit him. Now I personally have always considered the Drummer

the best part of the Jazz Band. I think if all the members of a Jazz

band played the Drums it would make better music. I would rather have

been the Author of that Banana Masterpiece than the Author of the

Constitution of the United States. No one has offered any amendments to

it. Its the only thing ever written in America that we haven’t changed,

most of them for the worst.

PROSPECTUS FOR “THE REMODELED CHEWING GUM CORPORATION”

[Illustration: WHY CAN’T I DO SOMETHING WITH SECOND-HAND GUM?]

PROSPECTUS FOR “THE REMODELED CHEWING GUM CORPORATION”

Last week I made, on account of my Movie work, a trip to Catalina

Island and along with the Glass bottom Boat I had pointed out to me

the home of Mr. William Wrigley on the top of the highest mountain. He

also owns the Island. We were not allowed to go nearer than the gate as

the Guide said some other Tourist had carried away a Grand Piano, and

he had gotten discouraged at having them around. Another tourist was

caught right on the Lawn Chewing an opposition Brand of Gum. That is

really the thing that gummed up the Tourist Parade.

Then I remembered having seen his wonderful building in Chicago, all,

mind you, accumulated on Chewing Gum at a Cent a Chew. Now I felt

rather hurt at not being allowed to at least walk through maybe the

Kitchen, or the Cellar, because I know that I have contributed more to

the Building of that Home than any one living. I have not only made

Chewing Gum a pastime but I have made it an Art. I have brought it

right out in Public and Chewed before some of the oldest Political

Families of Massachusetts.

I have had Senator Lodge (who can take the poorest arguments in the

World and dress them up in perfect English and sell them) after

hearing my Act on the Stage, say: “William” (that’s English for Will),

“William, I could not comprehend a Word of the Language you speak, but

you do Masticate uncompromisingly excellent.”

This reception which I received at the Wrigley Home was so in contrast

to the one which I received at Mr. Adolphus Busch’s in St. Louis.

When he heard that one of his best Customers was at the outer Gate,

Mr. Busch not only welcomed me, but sent me a fine German Police Dog

to California, the stock of which had come direct from the Kaiser’s

Kennels in Pottsdam. The Dog did wonderful until some one here by

mistake gave him a drink of Half of One Percent Beer. He would have

been six years old next May.

After looking on Mr. Wrigley’s home with much admiration and no little

envy, the thought struck me: A man to succeed nowadays must have an

Idea. Here I am, struggling along and wasting my time on trying to

find something nice to say of our Public Men, when I should be doing

Something with Dividends connected with it. So then the thought struck

me: WHAT BECOMES OF ALL THE CHEWING GUM THAT IS USED IN THIS COUNTRY?

I just thought to myself, if Bill Wrigley can amass this colossal

fortune, and pay the Manufacturing charges, why can’t I do something

with Second-Hand Gum. I will have no expense, only the accumulation

of the Gum after it is thoroughly masticated. Who would be the most

beneficial to mankind, the man who invented Chewing Gum, or me who can

find a use for it? Why, say, if I can take a wad of old Gum and graft

it onto some other substance, I will be the modern Burbank. (With the

ideas I have got for used Gum I may be honored by my Native State of

Oklahoma by being made Governor, with the impeachment clause scratched

out of the Contract.)

All Wrigley had was an Idea. He was the first man to discover that the

American Jaws must wag. So why not give them something to wag against?

That is, put in a kind of Shock Absorber.

If it wasn’t for Chewing Gum, Americans would wear their teeth off just

hitting them against each other. Every Scientist has been figuring

out who the different races descend from. I don’t know about the other

Tribes, but I do know that the American Race descended from the Cow.

And Wrigley was smart enough to furnish the Cud. He has made the whole

World chew for Democracy.

That’s why this subject touches me so deeply. I have chewed more Gum

than any living Man. My Act on the Stage depended on the grade of Gum

I chewed. Lots of my readers have seen me and perhaps noted the poor

quality of my jokes on that particular night. Now I was not personally

responsible for that. I just happened to hit on a poor piece of Gum.

One can’t always go by the brand. There just may be a poor stick of Gum

in what otherwise may be a perfect package. It may look like the others

on the outside but after you get warmed up on it, why, you will find

that it has a flaw in it. And hence my act would suffer. I have always

maintained that big Manufacturers of America’s greatest necessity

should have a Taster--a man who personally tries every Piece of Gum put

out.

Now lots of People don’t figure the lasting quality of Gum. Why, I have

had Gum that wouldn’t last you over half a day, while there are others

which are like Wine--they improve with Age.

I hit on a certain piece of Gum once, which I used to park on the

Mirror of my dressing room after each show. Why, you don’t know what a

pleasure it was to chew that Gum. It had a kick, or spring to it, that

you don’t find once in a thousand Packages. I have always thought it

must have been made for Wrigley himself.

And say, what jokes I thought of while chewing that Gum! Ziegfeld

himself couldn’t understand what had put such life and Humor into my

Work.

Then one night it was stolen, and another piece was substituted in

its place, but the minute I started in to work on this other Piece I

knew that someone had made a switch. I knew this was a Fake. I hadn’t

been out on the Stage 3 minutes until half of the audience were asleep

and the other half were hissing me. So I just want to say you can’t

exercise too much care and judgment in the selection of your Gum,

because if it acts that way with me in my work, it must do the same

with others, only they have not made the study of it that I have.

Now you take Bryan. I lay his downfall to Gum. You put that man on

good Gum and he will be parking it right under the White House Dinner

Table.

Now, some Gum won’t stick easy. It’s hard to transfer from your hand to

the Chair. Other kinds are heavy and pull hard. It’s almost impossible

to remove them from Wood or Varnish without losing a certain amount of

the Body of the Gum.

There is lots to be said for Gum. This pet Piece of mine I afterwards

learned had been stolen by a Follies Show Girl, who two weeks later

married an Oil Millionaire.

Gum is the only ingredient of our National Life of which no one knows

how or of what it is made. We know that Sawdust makes our Breakfast

food. We know that Tomato Cans constitute Ford Bodies. We know that old

Second-hand Newspapers make our 15 dollar Shoes. We know that Cotton

makes our All-Wool Suits. But no one knows yet what constitutes a

mouthful of Chewing Gum.

But I claim if you can make it out of old Rubber Boots and Tires and

every form of old junk, why can’t I, after reassembling it, put it

back into these same Commodities? No one has found a substitute for

Concrete. Why not Gum? Harden the surface so the Pedestrians would

not vacate with your street. What could be better for a Dam for a

River than old Chewing Gum? Put one Female College on the banks of the

Grand Canyon, and they will Dam it up in 2 years, provided they use

discretion in their parking.

Now, as for my plans of accumulation, put a Man at every Gum selling

place. The minute a Customer buys, he follows him. He don’t have to

watch where he throws it when through; all he has to do is to follow.

He will step on it sooner or later no matter where they throw it.

When he feels it, he immediately cuts off the part of the shoe where

it is stuck on, so he can save the entire piece. Then he goes back and

awaits another buyer.

I have gone into the matter so thoroughly that I made a week’s test at

a friend of mine’s Theatre. At one of Mr. Sid Grauman’s Movie Theatres

here, I gathered gum for one week and kept account of the intake every

day. My statistics have proven that every Seat in every Movie Theatre

will yield a half Pint of Gum every 2 days, some only just slightly

used.

Now that gives us an average of a Pint and a Half every six days,

not counting Sunday where the Pro Rata really increases. Now figure

the seating capacity of the Theatre and you arrive at just what our

Proposition will yield in a good solid commodity.

Of course, this thing is too big for me to handle personally. I can,

myself, disrobe, after every Show, one Theatre and perhaps a Church on

Sunday. But to make it National I have to form it into a Trust. We will

call it the “Remodeled Chewing Gum Corporation.”

Don’t call it Second Hand; there is no Dignity in that name. If we say

“remodeled” why every Bird in America falls for that.

Of course, it is my idea ultimately after we have assembled more than

we can use for Concrete and Tires and Rubber Boots to get a Press of

some kind and mash it up in different and odd shapes.

(You know there is nothing that takes at a Dinner like some Popular

Juice Flavor to our Remodeled and overhauled Product. I would suggest

Wood Alcohol. That would combine two Industries into one.)

I want to put flavors in there where we can take some of this colossal

trade away from these Plutocratic Top Booted Gentlemen. If we can

get just enough of this Wood Alcohol into our reassembled Gum to make

them feel it and still not totally destroy our Customer we will have

improved on the Modern Bootlegger as he can only sell to the same man

once.

Now, Gentlemen and Ladies, you have my proposition. Get in early on,

“Old Gum made as good as New.” Think of the different brands that would

be popular, “Peruna Flavor Gum,” “Jamaica Ginger Gum,” “Glover’s Mange

Gum,” “Lysol Gum.”

It looks like a great proposition to me. It will be the only Industry

in the World where all we have to do is to just pick it up, already

made, and flavor it.

I am going to put this thing up to my friend, Henry Ford. Think, with

no overhead, how he could keep the Cost down. It’s a better proposition

than being President.

INSIDE STUFF ON THE TOTAL ECLIPSE

[Illustration: THE MORE GLASSES YOU USED THE MORE ECLIPSE YOU COULD

SEE.]

INSIDE STUFF ON THE TOTAL ECLIPSE

Well, I have just this minute returned from Tia Juana, Mexico, where

I along with some thousands of other Scientists went to observe the

Total Eclipse. That is that was their excuse for going. You know it

don’t take much excuse to get a man, or Woman either, to go to Mexico

nowadays. So when the Scientists said that Los Angeles was only to get

a 99 percent Eclipse, (That is about the only thing I ever knew Los

Angeles to fall down on. They are generally 100 percent) it kinder hurt

their pride. It was the first time that Nature had ever handed them a

mere 99.

I don’t really think they would have ever gotten over it but San

Francisco only received some 85 or 90 percent so that kinder salved

things over.

But the Chamber of Commerce has held a meeting and voted Resolutions to

apply for the next Eclipse in its entirety. They claim that it was due

to the Club not giving the matter more thought that they lost the One

Percent on this one.

Well, the Scientist Road Map showed that Catilina Island and San Diego

and Tia Juana, were right in the path of total blackness. Everybody

that could get out of a Cafeteria line in time to make the trip

started for one of these places. Catilina Island offered wonderful

possibilities. You could get two rounds of Seasickness, see the Eclipse

and get your Chewing Gum at cost--all in one day’s pleasure.

San Diego is a Town built in the most South Westerly part of the United

States where Americans who are coming out of Mexico sober up, before

being able to go to their various homes, and it is really remarkable

what a thriving Town it is. You would be surprised at the business they

do.

There are nice Hotels there with Ice Water in every room, and even

Banks where you can draw Drafts on your Home Bank after a Day in Mexico

at the Tables (as they say in Monte Carlo books). San Diego catches

very few going down into Mexico, (only the Punctures) as most People

are in a great hurry to get there, once you begin to reach this Oasis.

So you see it didn’t take much decision on my part to decide that if

I, along with the other Scientists who were to write on this Traffic

accident in the Skies, wanted to pick out an observatory there was no

particular reason why we should select a Dry one.

Well, my friend Mr. Henry Ford may or may not ever be President, but I

want to publicly say this to him, that the people he sells his Cars to

are of a very high type of intelligence. I never saw so many owners of

one make of car so interested in Astronomy in my life. There were not

only Autos of every make but people of every make, jammed two rows deep

for 150 miles struggling to reach Tia Juana, Mexico FOR THE ECLIPSE.

You would see people going to Mexico to see this eclipse, who, if you

looked at them, you wouldn’t think they knew when Sunday passed between

Monday and Saturday, much less when the Moon passed between the Sun and

Earth.

Now, as I say, we passed through some 70 miles of United States

Territory that was to be blotted out totally, but there wasn’t an

observatory in the entire region. Being my first year as a Journalist

and this being my first assignment to cover a total Eclipse for the

various papers who crave my Scientific knowledge, I am really ashamed

to admit it, but, outside of not even knowing what an Eclipse was

or when one was to happen, I had never even entered one of their

Observatories where they watch these Eclipses; so it was with the

greatest anxiety and enthusiasm that I dashed up to the Mexico line.

The Country to the south of us we have lately recognized. (The receipt

for any other Nation that wants us to recognize them, is to strike Oil,

or some other commodity that our Capitalists want.) But this editorial

is not on our Foreign Relations. That I will take up in due time as

we have some Foreign Relations. This is to be on the Planets, their

various Routes, mode and speed of travel.

A great many Scientists, I had read in the papers, were bringing

Cameras to Photograph this remarkable phenomenon. But most of the

Scientists that I saw had Jugs and Flasks. Well, not being up on

Science, I didn’t know what to bring. You know these Scientists are

such a queer lot I wouldn’t be surprised at anything they do.

Well, I asked the Custom Inspector where the Observatory was. He said,

“Which one?” I said, “Lick.” (That was the only one I had ever heard

of.) He said, “Right over there is one, if it ain’t all Licked up.”

You never saw such an accommodating Country in the World. Just think

the preparations they had gone through for the visiting Scientists’

Pleasure. They had built these Observatories all over the place right

up to the line where you would lose no time. You could start observing

the minute you got into the Country.

Now, there is apt to be among my readers some who are as ignorant as

I was about the inside of an Observatory, so for their benefit I will

explain just what it is like. On the left, as you enter, is a long

Table affair, that runs the length of the room. It’s really higher than

a Table, and back of it is a long Mirror where you get the reflections

of any local Eclipses that might happen. Then on the bottom, outside

this high counter, is a little low railing that Singers’ Midgets could

look over if they wanted to see an Eclipse.

Now, up here in Los Angeles, they talked about smoked Glasses, but

down there they just filled them and looked through them, and the more

Glasses you used, and the more different kinds of glasses, why, the

more Eclipse you could see. Some men would have to get the man to let

them try a dozen different Glasses before they could get the right

Focus.

Then, on the other side of the room, if you didn’t want to look

through glasses upside down, why they had various other instruments of

knowledge. One was a Table with little Cubes cut square (or apparently

square) with Dots on them and the Scientist would shake them in his

hand and lay down some Money, and then let them empty out his hand.

Then another Scientist, even more of a Scientist, would pick up the

money in one hand and the little squares in the other and hand the

squares to another Scientist and put the money in his Pocket. Then the

same operation would be gone through, till each Scientist, except the

good one, would be Gone Through.

I asked a visiting Astronomy Professor what the idea was. He said, “You

can see if you are right.” I says, “What has that got to do with the

eclipse?” He says, “Why you bet on the passing.” So I bet him I would

pass but I didn’t, so now I want the Scientist to figure out in what

year I am going to pass.

By that time it was 12.50 P. M. so I come out of the Observatory as

that was the time it was supposed to be Total, but there wasn’t a

Soul on the Streets or outside any place. Everybody was on the inside

looking at the Eclipse. It was pretty dark on the Street and a Mexican

who lived in the edge of the Town started milking his Cow, and raising

the mischief with his wife because she didn’t have his supper ready.

One fellow staggered out of an Observatory and I asked him if he

had seen the Eclipse and he said, “Which one?” But it certainly was

a success from a Scientific point of view, for away along in the

evening after it had gotten light, I saw Astronomers piled up in every

Observatory just overcome by what the Scientists call the Corona, or

after effects of an Eclipse.

Oh yes, the Mexicans also put on for the visiting Astrologers a Bull

Fight. It was held at the lower end of the Town. You had to pass every

Observatory in town before you reached the Bull Ring.

Well, I went down and there was lots of Natives but very few Americans.

As I say, it was held at the wrong end of the Town for them to reach

it. I guess it was the only Fight ever held during an Eclipse.

Can you imagine getting in a Pen with a Bull in the dark. I wouldn’t

even get in with one in the light. Well, the Bulls turned out to

be Steers. I guess on account of the Eclipse and the Condition the

Americans would be in, the Mexicans figured they wouldn’t know the

difference. They didn’t kill the Bulls, and the Bulls wasn’t lucky

enough to do any damage themselves. As a strict Humane man I could see

nothing to kick about, only from an audience’s standpoint.

So I left Tia Juana and come back to this side where everybody had

looked at the Eclipse from out of doors, and they all seemed to be

kinder disappointed. It didn’t do anything. You see from the amount of

Press stuff written about it most people kinder thought it would do

some tricks, maybe juggle or shimmy or something like that. It just

passed--that’s all. I, personally, along with all the others couldn’t

see anything so wonderful about it’s doing that. If the two planets

hadn’t passed but had hit, that would have been something to see.

Of course, I will admit in this day of congested Traffic, for any two

given objects to meet and pass without hitting is considered wonderful.

Everybody I talked with seemed to be unanimous that they would rather

have seen the Dempsey and Firpo fight. So I guess that is why they only

have Eclipses every 100 years so they won’t have to draw from the same

crowd twice.

But no one who saw it from Mexico had any fault to find with it at all.

If there is any great thing happening and you are not right sure you

will enjoy it, why, go to Mexico and see it.

I tell you a thing looks different from a foreign country. I wish I

could have seen the Democratic and Republican Conventions from Tia

Juana.

The Eclipse was kinder overrated but I tell you Mexico ain’t.

IT’S TIME SOMEBODY SAID A WORD FOR CALIFORNIA

(_A speech delivered impromptu at a Dinner to the Old Settlers of

California. Mr. Rogers had another speech prepared but when he found

everybody boosting California he changed his speech._)

[Illustration: I JUST HAPPENED TO REMEMBER THAT NO ONE HAD SAID A WORD

FOR CALIFORNIA.]

IT’S TIME SOMEBODY SAID A WORD FOR CALIFORNIA

I attended a dinner the other morning given for the Old Settlers of

California. No one was allowed to attend unless he had been in the

State 2 and one-half years.

I was the last speaker on the Menu. They put me last, figuring

everybody would either be asleep or gone by the time I began.

Well sir, do you know, by the time it got to me there was nothing

left to talk on! But I just happened to notice that in all the other

speeches no one had mentioned California, so as that was all I had left

I just had to go ahead and do the best I could with California.

Now, it ain’t much of a speech but it is at least a novelty, because in

all my time out here I had never heard the subject used before at any

Dinners or Luncheons.

Mr. Toastmaster, Ladies and Gentlemen, and Members of the Old

California Settlers Association: Your previous speakers have taken up

so much time boosting and praising other States and their People that

it is now most daylight, and I am at a loss to pick a subject, but at

the last minute I just happened to remember that no one had said a word

for California. So I will take up this very remote subject and see if I

can’t do something to drag it out of the obscurity in which it has been

placed here tonight.

Being one of your old Timers (I have been a resident of this State

now for nearly 4 years; there is only one other older member in the

organization) I want to say right here that you often hear it said,

“What is the matter with California?” Well, I will tell you what is the

matter--it’s MODESTY, that’s what it is, too much MODESTY.

If we got out and blew our own Horns and Advertised and boosted our

State like Delaware, and Rhode Island have, we wouldn’t be so little

heard of. So, whether you like it or not fellow Statesmen, I for one am

going to throw Modesty to the winds and just tell the World off-hand a

few of the things that we have got out here.

Now, just picking subjects at random, what do you suppose we could do

if we wanted to say something about CLIMATE? Why, that item alone would

draw people here. But what do we do? We just set here and say nothing.

We go out of the State and we are so darn generous that all we do is

brag on the place where we are. We never think of handing our own State

a little free advertising.

But you take, as I say, a fellow from Delaware, and he is preaching

Delaware and all its advantages from the time you meet him till you

leave him, and by golly, it pays to do that. Look at Delaware today! So

never mind this old good fellow spirit of giving the other fellow the

best of it. I believe in throwing in a little boost for the old Native

Heath.

Now I know you other members don’t agree with me and think that we

should think of our proud traditions and not stoop so low as to have to

advertise but I tell you that this day and time is a commercial Age,

and we have got to throw our Pride away and let the World know just

what we have here.

There is no reason why other People from neighboring States shouldn’t

know of our Climate. Why keep it hid? It’s here. We got it. They can’t

take it away with them.

Of course, I will admit that we have done a little good in a small

way with Picture Post Cards. Five years ago Iowa was a prosperous and

satisfied State. They had no idea of leaving. They had shoveled snow

for 5 months every year and figured they would always shovel snow 5

months every year. But finally one day a Twenty Dollar Bill come into

the State and a Farmer wanted to get change for it, so he started out

trying to get it changed and wound up in Long Beach, California.

A fellow selling Roses in January changed it for him, and when the

Farmer pulled off his Mittens to count the change he found that it

was warm and he didn’t have to put the mittens back on again. That

made quite a hit with him and he decided to stay awhile. So he sent a

Picture Post Card back with the Picture of a Man Picking Oranges off

the trees in January, and told them how fine it was and everybody that

read the Post Card, including the Postmaster come on out.

So when they came they sent back Picture Post Cards to all their

Friends who liked Oranges, and in time they came too, and so on, each

newcomer bringing out just as many more as he could afford Post Cards.

Now in the short space of 5 years look what has happened. The whole of

the State of Iowa is here. The only ones left back there are the ones

who can’t read the Post Cards, or People who don’t care for Oranges,

and now I see where they have put in Schools to teach those others to

read so that means we will eventually have them all, with the exception

of the ones who don’t like Oranges.

Now, as I say, if all of that can be done with just Picture Post Cards,

what do you suppose could have been done if the Newspapers of our State

had thought to have said something in praise of our Climate? So, Fellow

Old Timers, if we can get the grand State of Iowa out here on a Picture

Post Card of an Orange Tree, what could we do with some of these other

States if we really devoted a little of our time to it!

Why, Oranges are a small time commodity with us. We raise more Beans on

one farm here without Irrigating than we do Oranges in the whole State.

If we had Picture Post Cards of Bean Fields instead of Orange Fields

we could get the whole of Boston here the same as we did with Iowa.

You will do even better with Boston than you did with Iowa because

everybody there likes Beans. So let’s get busy and let them know what

we are doing in the Bean line.

Take the case of Oil. You all know we struck Oil here in Southern

California. But did you let anybody else know it? No, you didn’t say

a word about it, and as a consequence, a man can’t even find a place

to buy an Oil Stock. Now there are lots of People would buy shares and

Units, but no, you are so darn MODEST you won’t let the World know what

we have.

I would like to have seen what Delaware would have done if they had

found this much Oil. They would have sold so much Stock that if the

Pacific Ocean had been Oil it wouldn’t have paid back the Buyers.

Look at Real Estate. Here we have the greatest Land and Lots that ever

laid out of doors, but do we do anything with them? No! We just set

here. We never advertise them; we never boost them. I wish you could

see what the State of Delaware would do if they had the same class of

lots that we have here. Why they would have Sub-Divisions all over

the place. They would have Barbecues, and Drawings, and Scream Stars

personally appearing, and men under umbrellas selling each lot. But

no, we are too conservative; we like to sit here and let the stuff

speak for itself. But I tell you, Fellow Old Timers, you can’t do that

nowadays. It’s all right for a State to build up a Reputation for

Modesty and be known as always having a good word to say for the other

place, but I tell you we have carried it too far for our own good.

Of course I can appreciate you other old Timers’ feelings in the

matter. You have been here and helped build it to what it even is

today, and you resent these Johnny Newcomers coming in and spoiling all

of our old customs and Traditions. I know it is hard to change with the

Times. We old Timers who have seen this place grow from what it was 2

and a half years ago to what it is today, must realize these stacks of

young fellows coming in here the last two weeks must have the right

idea, and we must begin to realize that after all it is the general

welfare of the entire community we are after.

So, Fellow Members, if my little speech has been the means of changing

just one of you from your Iron Clad rule of Modesty in regard to your

Home state, why I will feel that my little efforts will not have been

in vain.

So from now on I am for letting the World know of California, even if

the rest of the State does disapprove of it, and I sit down amid HISSES

from the MODEST Oldtimers.

PROMOTING THE OCEANLESS ONE PIECE SUIT

[Illustration: I WANT TO DO SOMETHING FOR THE HOME TOWN GIRL SO SHE CAN

STAY AT HOME AND SHOW HOW AND WHAT SHE IS MADE OF.]

PROMOTING THE OCEANLESS ONE PIECE SUIT

Everybody at some time in life feels a call within Him or Her, as the

gender may be, to try and Promote something or other, that is to form

a Company and sell Stock. We have all bought so much and been stung so

often that we want to try the side where the Money comes in, instead of

going out.

One-third of the people in the United States promote, while the other

two-thirds Provide. There are more commissions paid out to Stock

Salesmen than are ever collected by Stock Buyers. So, after living

honest for years, the thing naturally becomes monotonous and we feel a

hankering to Promote.

Now, I had reached that stage in life where I had thought maybe

I would get by clear to the end without Promoting something

and sticking my Friends. But the old Bug has bit me; the old

Make-it-easy-without-working has got me. So I am now branching out as a

Promotor, Throwing the Rope, Chewing Gum, Acting a Fool in the Movies,

Robbing Ziegfeld, and Writing for a Living. All these are side lines

from now on. I am now a Promotor. A Promotor is a man who would rather

stick a Friend than to sell Henry Ford a Synagogue.

Of course my proposition is different. (Did you ever hear one of them

pull that Gag before?)

My proposition is of Interest to every Town of any size in America.

I am forming Clubs, called Swimming or Bathing Clubs, or any Aquatic

name. A great many Towns have been denied the privilege of having

these Clubs, heretofore, as they were not situated near any Body of

Water. Now I have been to all the prominent Beaches in the East, and

this summer have had a chance to study the various Water Resorts of

California.

I have paid particular attention to the Habits and procedure of

Club Members and their Guests and I think I can do the same for the

Non-irrigated Portion of this Country as is being enjoyed by the Tidal

Wave region.

I come into your Town and start promoting (we will call it a swimming

or Beach Club). I sell memberships for, we will say, the nominal sum

of 500 dollars a piece. That makes it high enough to keep out the

substantial people who really after all are rather old-fashioned, and

allows us to take into our Club some of our most prominent Bootleggers,

Oil Magnates, who have worked their way up from the bottom in the last

year, and just the people of the Town who do things--in other words,

the ones who belong.

We build the Club House (a rather long rambling affair) on some ground

which we can get at a nominal figure (as I will explain the value of

Citizens like we will have being located in their midst, and what our

Club will do for the surrounding Land). Now, the great advantage that

my Clubs will have over the present ones in our Beach Cities is that we

will build ours right in the heart of the Town, so the Tired Business

Man can reach it even for Lunch, whereas in other places they have to

go miles to reach a Beach Club. We will have a Uniformed man at the

door to meet the Cars, as nothing impresses the newly rich so much as

Gold Braid.

Our Cafe prices will be high enough so that if a Member takes a friend

any other place he will be considered rather a short Sport. Each member

will have his Private Locker (including a Corkscrew), where he can

change to his bathing Suit. There will be a wide Veranda under awnings

where Members may dine in their Suits, and other Tables which are not

protected from the Rays of the Sun, where the more Hardy Members may

sit and acquire a Tan.

Of course one item of expense in connection with these Clubs which will

require me to expend quite a tidy sum is having Ocean Sand transported

to these Towns and then by Truck to the center of the City.

This sand must be spread very, very thick, as the principal pastime

of the Members and Guests will be to lay right down in it and try and

cover each other entirely up. Oh, it’s a ripping experience that you in

the inland Cities have missed, if you have never tried it.

Mind you, this 500 dollars which I receive per each will not all be

profit as I will be called upon to purchase a Medicine Ball or so.

That is a Beach Sport that only the most Athletic and reckless of our

Membership would dare enter into--tossing this ferocious Ball from

one to the other. I have seen a Game of it last, if there were Female

Spectators, as long as three or four minutes.

Then, for the more skilled, there is Baseball on the Beach which is

played with a Rubber Tennis Ball. I have seen men graduate from that

right into some of our best Tea and Cake Hounds.

We will have beautifully striped Umbrellas placed at intervals over the

Beach for those who become fatigued in parading. When there is a big

crowd and you have to walk by everybody in your Bathing Suit it tires

one more than the uninitiated would think. And we’ll have a Life Guard

(perhaps a Native of Honolulu if we can procure one). At any rate, we

will get the most sunburned one we can, for the less fortunate ones to

compare their Tan with. He will be provided with Smelling Salts, and

other restoratives in case a Wife should unexpectedly discover her own

Husband with some other One Piece Suit Female Companion.

There will be Life Lines across the sands, so the more fore-sighted of

the members can find their way during the afternoon back and forth to

their Lockers.

Now, I think I have enumerated all that is required to successfully

operate one of these Beach Clubs. Of course, most of them heretofore

have had Water but in all my experience (which runs over a term of

years) I have never seen a Member willfully enter this Water. Years ago

at one of the Eastern Beaches they claim a man went into the water,

but this has never been verified, and so far as the ladies go, there

hasn’t been a swell Bathing Suit wet since Kellermann retired.

Now you see my scheme. I have laid it before you. Nobody ever thought

of it because they were not a close observer like I have been.

They just naturally thought Water was required, but it is the most

unnecessary thing connected with a Beach Club. Of course, Showers are

provided for those who do not care to sleep with sand in their bed.

Just think of a Club right at your door where you can run down and

change Clothes and display your figure without having to go to Palm

Beach or Del Monte! Besides, I am showing you how you can display it to

the People who you want to see it--not to a lot of strangers. Show it

right where it will do you the most good.

If I had thought of this sooner and we had had one in my home of

Claremore, Oklahoma (home of best Radium Water in the World) and I

could have paraded up and down with my shape, I would have been able to

settle down a lot earlier.

I tell you my scheme is a boost for home Talent. Many a Girl, if she

could have shown off properly at home, would have never had to leave

there. Now, if you think my scheme is crazy, you go to the Ocean where

there is a Beach to parade on and see how many ever go in swimming

where there is nothing but Swimming Water.

No sir, the Sand and the Clothes are the thing--not the Water. So I

will put my scheme over, not only for the selfish motive of making

money, but because I want to do something for the home Town Girl who

hasn’t the money to go to Narragansett Pier to be properly appreciated,

but can stay at home and show how and what she is made of.

WARNING TO JOKERS: LAY OFF THE PRINCE

[Illustration: SO I GOT ME SOME OF THOSE LONG-HANDLED WOODEN HAMMERS

AND STARTED IN AT POLO.]

WARNING TO JOKERS: LAY OFF THE PRINCE

I want hereby, and hereon, to publicly issue a protest to my fellow

Writers, and Comedians, against the use of Cartoons, Editorials,

Paragraphs, Free Verse, or any form of Public Notice, Jibing, or Poking

Fun or attempting to be Funny, at the Expense of the Prince of Wales,

falling off his Horse.

My reasons are two fold, first on account of it being passé, and

secondly on account of the happenings of the past week to my own

Immediate Person. Now everything is funny as long as it is happening to

somebody Else, but when it happens to you, why it seems to lose some of

its Humor, and if it keeps on happening, why the entire laughter kinder

Fades out of it.

Last year in New York it was one of my sure fire subjects to remark

about the Prince of Wales staking himself out a six foot Claim in some

part of England. And I remember one choice morsel of Gossip I had was

that I was going to get appointed as Ambassador to England so I could

go riding with the Prince and be able to rope his Horse and bring him

Back to him. And another was, “I see where the Prince of Wales fell off

his Horse again today. But that ain’t News any more. If he stayed on

That Would Be News.” Well that always knocked the audience right back

on their Flasks.

Now in those days, which was a Year ago, that was very Komical both

to me and the audience. But of course now it has finally reached the

Comic Strip Cartoons, really earlier than a joke generally does, and

even the Editorial Writers are commenting on it, in what they term a

lighter vein. Now an Editorial Writer is the last man in the World to

find anything out, so you will see how old and out of date it must be

to refer to now.

But all this has nothing to do with my real Reason. I always have a few

old Ponies for me and the Children to play around with, so somebody

said, “Will, why don’t you play Polo? Anybody that can ride can play

Polo.” And me, like a Fool, believed him. Why that is as absurd as

saying anybody that can walk would make a good Golf Player, or anybody

that looks good in a Bathing Suit will make a good swimmer.

Now I want it distinctly understood that I did not take up Polo for

any Social Prestige, or to make myself pointed out as a Man about Town.

If I was the Champion Polo Player of the World, I still couldn’t drink

a Cup of Tea without using the saucer. And another reason I always

hesitated on taking up the Game was account of the White Breeches.

I had always been reared to believe that White Breeches should be

concealed beneath Black or Gray ones--at least in Public.

The people that think riding a Horse is all there is to Polo, are the

same people that think Curls are all there is to Mary Pickford. I can

also walk, but I can’t sweep a Golf Ball into one of those Holes with a

Broom.

So I got me some of those long handled wooden Hammers and started in at

Polo. You know some men like to have their Fields harrowed and plowed,

and I had not played Polo two days until I was offered a job to come

over and Play on their Ground as they wanted it dug up. Finally I got

so every once in a while I would hit the Ball. But it seemed like

every time I hit the Ball it would get mad and go off in an opposite

direction.

Well, finally I got to playing in Practice Games, more for the Comedy

I would cause than through any good I might do my side. If the Purple

and Whites had a Game I might wear a Purple Jersey, but in reality I

would be playing with the Whites.

Then come a Polo Tournament held at Coronado Beach. So as I was

scheduled to play in one of the Minor League, or Small Time events, I

go down and one day we are having a Friendly practice Game with a few

looking on. Three of us beginners all bump together, Mind you, we are

all three on the same side. We knock our Horses down, I fall on my head

and of course, am not hurt.

The Referee called an Unusual Foul. He said I had fouled by running

over two of my own side. Well, the next day was the Big game; we were

to play the 11th Cavalry from Monterey. They sure were a fine bunch of

Boys, and hard Riders. Things were going along Pretty Good until along

about the 3rd Act, I was on a new Pony who suddenly reared up and Fell

Back on Me. There he was, a laying right across my Intermission. My

Head was out on one side and my Feet on the other; that was all you

could see. When he got up I knew for the first time how the Prince must

have felt.

Well, everything goes K.O. for two more periods. I am on a Friend’s

Horse and coming lickerty split down the field, when for no Reason at

all the horse crosses his front legs and starts turning Somersaults.

They picked me up just south of Santa Barbara.

The crowd all said, “Oh that’s Will Rogers the Comedian. He just does

that for laughs.” The Papers next day all said, “Comedian Spills off

Horse Twice at Polo Game.”

Now I will admit there was not quite the same Publicity given to all my

various Falls as to those of the Prince. But the hurt was just as bad.

Everybody that reads about it had been kidding me about being the Local

Prince of Wales of America. But what I want to know from some of these

Newspaper Riders is what I am supposed to do in case the Horse falls.

Are the Prince and I supposed to fall With the Horse, or are we

supposed to stay up there in the air until he gets Up, and comes back

up under us? Every fall that the Prince has had has been caused by a

falling Horse, not by being thrown From one. In the future the Prince

and I will personally pay in the papers for the extra two lines that

will announce that “the Horse going down had something to do with our

going off.”

England is all worked up over his numerous Falls, but up to now no

one has manifested much interest in any of mine, only for laughing

purposes. At least none of the prominent Washington Politicians have

asked me to cease my Riding. I want some concern paid to my welfare.

In my falls I am not fortunate enough to spill any Royal Blood, but

it’s my Blood, and it’s all I got. It’s kinder funny but no matter how

common our blood is, we hate to Lose any of it.

I saw a Picture in the Paper last summer where the Prince was on one of

his Horses and its name was Will Rogers. Now I got all swelled Up when

I saw he had a Horse named for me, but maybe that was the one that has

been doing all this high and lofty Tumbling. As a suggestion, if our

respective Countries want to do something to protect our Welfare, the

best thing I can suggest would be to get us some Horses that can stand

up, for the Prince and I both have to take every Precaution to protect

our Looks. It would be terrible if his face was marred. And I certainly

don’t want anything to happen to Mine to make it look Better. My

living depends on it, just as it Is.

The only thing that makes me sore is that I haven’t got the nerve to

do some of the riding stunts that the Prince goes after. He goes over

Jumps that I wouldn’t have the nerve to climb over on foot. Then if

he gets a fall a lot of us alleged Humorists (who would be afraid to

lead one of his horses to water with a 20 foot Halter rope) start in

rewriting original Jokes about the Prince’s Horsemanship.

I saw a Picture of one of his Falls, where the Horse had fallen trying

for a Water Jump. Why that Jump was so wide, that I bet we haven’t got

a Joke Writer in this country could swim across it, and not over two

could row over it.

I am not overly strong for Royalty, but if I had to have one of Them

over me I don’t know of one that I would rather have than this same

Bird, and most of this Admiration has been won by his Horsemanship, not

by the Lack of it.

Lots of women have it in for him because he has not married, But with

all of them making a silly play for him, I admire his Judgment as much

as his Horsemanship. So here is an appeal to my fellow Jokesters: If

you want to kid somebody on their Riding go to Central Park, don’t go

to England unless, as I say, you have some Solution for a man staying

up while the Horse is going Down.

P. S. I only had one thing to be thankful for in my falls. I

practically Ruined the only Pair of White Breeches I had, of course,

it’s all right with the Prince--he can wear his Daddy’s. But from now

on I will get to play in Chaps.

SPRING IS HERE, WITH POEMS AND BATH TUBS

[Illustration: THE FAMILY WASH-TUB WAS DRAGGED UP BY THE FIRE.]

SPRING IS HERE, WITH POEMS AND BATH TUBS

Well, there has been quite a bit happened since I last communed with

you. Spring is coming; I can tell by the Poetry and the Real Estate

ads. A Poet exists all year just to get his Poem published in the

Spring. Then when he sees it in print he starts getting next Spring’s

verse all ready. These early Spring Real Estate ads read, “This House

is located on the shady banks of a Beautiful stream.” Say, if there is

a beautiful stream anywhere now the Rail Road runs along it and all

you have to do is to get run over by a freight train to reach this

beautiful stream.

A favorite ad is, “Beautiful Home in heart of the most exclusive

Residential District, 5 Master Bedrooms and 9 baths; Owner going to

Europe.” Now let’s just take that ad out and dissect it and see what it

is.

In a Real Estate man’s eye, the most exclusive part of the City is

wherever he has a House to sell. The Dog Pound may be on one side and

the City Incinerator on the other but it’s still exclusive. And it is,

too, for it will be the only house in the world so situated.

Five Master Bedrooms! Now, they get that Master junk from English ads

where the man may be the master. Still, I don’t know why they call all

the rooms his. Over here they call them Master Bedrooms but the Wife

will pick out the Poorest one for him, and keep the other 4 Good ones

for Company.

Now, to the ordinary man on reading that Ad of 9 Baths, that would be

an insult to his cleanliness. A Man would have to be awful Busy to

support that many Baths, unless, of course, he neglected some of them.

The ad might better have read, “Buy our home and live in a Bath Tub.”

The biggest part of City homes nowadays have more Baths than Beds. So,

while they can’t always ask their Company to stay all night as they

have no place to put them, they can at least ask them to Bathe. So,

when you are invited out now, you can always be assured of your private

Bath, but you must leave before Bedtime.

When you visit a friend’s newly finished Home you will be shown through

all the Bath rooms, but when you leave you couldn’t, to save your soul,

tell where the dining room was. They seem to kinder want to camouflage

or hide that nowadays. There is such little eating being done in

the Homes now that a dining room is almost a lost art. Breakfast is

being served in bed, Dinner at the Cabaret with dancing attached, and

Lunch--no up-to-date Man would think of going anywhere but to his Clubs

for lunch. Besides, didn’t he hear a funny one and must get to the Club

to bore his alleged friends with it? He will talk everybody’s left ear

off all day and come home and bite his Wife’s off if she asks him to

tell her the news.

And then they have such an enlightening custom nowadays. Every body

of men who can think of a name have a Club. And is not Congressman

Blindbridle, who has just returned from a free Government trip

to Bermuda, going to deliver a Message at today’s Luncheon on

“Americanism, Or what we owe to the Flag?”

Now, as the dining room space has been eliminated to make room for an

additional Bath, most of the eating, if one happens to be entertaining

at home, is done Off The Lap. This custom of slow starvation has

shown vast improvement of late. Instead of the Napkins being of

Paper, why, they have been supplanted by almost-linen ones with

beautiful hemstitching. That’s to try and get your mind off the lack

of nourishment. As I say, the Napkin is hand sewn but the Lettuce

Sandwiches still come from the Delicatessen.

Why, in the good old days, they couldn’t have fed you on your lap

’cause you couldn’t have held all they would give you. Now you have to

feel for it to find it.

But the Husband does come home some time during the Day or Night, for

is not the overhead on his outlay of Baths going on all the time, and

shouldn’t he be getting home to get some good out of some of them?

It’s not the high cost of Living that is driving us to the Poor

House,--It’s the high Cost of bathing. The big question today is

not what are you going to pay for your plot of ground, but what

kind of fixtures are you going to put in your legion of Bath Rooms.

Manufacturers of Porcelain and Tile have Supplanted the Pocket Flask as

our principal commodity.

The interest on unpaid-for Bath Rooms would pay our National Debt.

Now, mind you, I am not against this modern accomplishment, or

extravagance, of ours. I realize that these Manufacturers of Fixtures

have advanced their Art to the point where they are practically modern

Michael Angelos. Where, in the old days, an Elephant Hook was almost

necessary for a Wife to drag her Husband toward anything that looked

like Water, today those Interior Bath Decorators can almost make one of

those things inviting enough to get in without flinching.

But, in doing so, they have destroyed an American Institution, and

ruined the only Calendar that a Child ever had. That was the Saturday

Night Bath. Nowadays a Child just grows up in ignorance. From the

Cradle to the Altar he don’t know what day of the week it is. In those

good old days he knew that the next morning after that weekly Ear

washing he was going to Sunday School. Now he has not only eliminated

the Bath on Saturday but has practically eliminated the Sunday School,

for neither he nor his Parents know when Sunday comes.

But, in those days, that old Kitchen Stove was kept hot after supper.

And not only the Tea Kettle was filled but other Pots and Pans, and the

Family Wash Tub was dragged up by the Fire, and you went out to the

Well and helped your Pa draw some Water to mix with that hot. While you

was doing that, your Ma, if you stayed Lucky and had a Ma up to then,

was a getting out all the clean Clothes and a fixing the Buttons, and

a laying out the schedule of who was to be first. And She was the only

one could tell just how much hot Water to put in to make it right. And

if anybody had to feel of the hot water and get burned it was always

her, not you, and she found dirt behind, and in, your Ears that all the

highfaluting Fixtures in the World can’t find today.

Now that was an event. It meant something. It brought you closer

together. But now bathing is so common there’s No Kick To It. It’s just

_Bla!!_

The Romans started this Bath Gag; now look what become of them. They

used to have the most beautiful Baths, kind of a Municipal Bath, where

they all met and strolled around and draped themselves on Marble Slabs.

It was a kinder Society event. It compared to our modern Receptions.

I have seen some beautiful Paintings of them, but I have yet to see

a Scene where a Roman was in the Water. But they did look, oh, just

too cunning, sunning themselves out on the Concrete Banks of those

Pools. It must have been like visiting our modern Beaches, where no

one can swim but the Life Guard, and they don’t know that he can as

he has never been called on to go in. But, like the Romans, our Girls

can arrange themselves in the most bewitching shapes out on the sand,

which, after all, must be much more comfortable than the Asphalt that

those little Cæsars had to spread themselves over.

I tell you if Baths keep on multiplying in the modern Home as they have

lately it won’t be 5 Years till a Bath Tub will be as necessary in a

home as a Cocktail Shaker.

If two members of the same household have to use the same Bath, it is

referred to now as a Community Tub.

Statistics have proven that there are 25 Bath Tubs sold to every Bible.

And fifty to every Dictionary, and 389 to every Encyclopedia.

Proving that, while we may be neglecting the Interior, we are looking

after the exterior.

If the Father of our Country, George Washington, was Tutankhamened

tomorrow, and, after being aroused from his Tomb, was told that the

American People today spend two Billion Dollars yearly on Bathing

Material, he would say, “WHAT GOT ’EM SO DIRTY?”

MR. FORD AND OTHER POLITICAL SELF-STARTERS

MR. FORD AND OTHER POLITICAL SELF-STARTERS

Well, there has been quite a stir in the Political News. The big news

was the Ford for President talk, made more important by Mr. Hearst

announcing that he would back him if he run on an independent Ticket.

It only shows you what both of the old line Parties are degenerating

into. Nobody wants to associate with either one of them.

I think that it will be the biggest boost Mr. Ford will have that he

don’t belong to either Party. It’s getting so if a man wants to stand

well socially he can’t afford to be seen with either the Democrats or

the Republicans.

I expect, if it was left to a vote right now by all the people, Mr.

Ford would be voted for by more people than any other man. But, if it

come to a question of counting those votes, I doubt if he even run

third. For, with all the mechanical improvements they have in the way

of adding machines, and counting machines, they can’t seem to invent

anything to take the place of the old Political mode of counting--two

for me and one for you.

More men have been elected between Sundown and Sunup, than ever were

elected between Sunup and Sundown.

Our public men are speaking every day on something, but they ain’t

saying anything. But when Mr. Harding said that, in case of another

war that capital would be drafted the same as men, he put over a

thought that, if carried out, would do more to stop Wars than all the

International Courts and Leagues of Nations in the World.

Of the three things to prevent wars, League of Nations, International

Court, and this Drafting of Capital, this last one is so far ahead of

the others there is no comparison. When that Wall Street Millionaire

knows that you are not only going to come into his office and take his

Secretary and Clerks but that you come in to get his Dough, say Boy,

there wouldn’t be any war. You will hear the question: “Yes, but how

could you do it?”

Say, you take a Boy’s life, don’t you? When you take Boys away you take

everything they have in the World, that is, their life. You send them

to war and part of that life you don’t use you let him come back with

it. Perhaps you may use all of it. Well, that’s the way to do with

wealth. Take all he has, give him a bare living the same as you do the

Soldier. Give him the same allowance as the Soldier--all of us that

stay home. The Government should own everything we have, use what it

needs to conduct the whole expenses of the war and give back what is

left, if there is any, the same as you give back to the Boy what he has

left.

There can be no Profiteering. The Government owns everything till the

war is over. Every Man, Woman and Child, from Henry Ford and John D.

down, get their Dollar and a Quarter a day the same as the Soldier. The

only way a man could profiteer in war like that would be to raise more

Children.

If any man went before the People on a platform of that kind and put it

over, he could remain President till his Whiskers got so long he could

make a fortune just picking the lost Golf Balls out of them. But, no,

it will never get anywhere. The rich will say it ain’t practical, and

the poor will never get a chance to find out if it is or not.

Lincoln made a wonderful speech under similar conditions one time:

“That this Nation under God, shall have a new Birth of Freedom, and

that Government of the people, by the People, for the People, shall not

perish from this earth.”

Now, every time a Politician gets in a speech, he digs up this

Gettysburg quotation. He recites it every Decoration day and practices

the opposite the other 364 days.

If our Government is by the people, how is it the Candidate with the

most votes by the people, going into a Presidential Convention never

got nominated?

Now, Lincoln meant well, but he only succeeded in supplying an applause

line for every Political Speaker who was stuck for a finish.

And that’s the way with Mr. Harding; he certainly meant well, for I can

imagine his feelings after having to mingle for the last 2 years with

some of our War Millionaires who are hanging around Washington, just

laying off between Wars.

And, in after Years, so will this speech of Mr. Harding’s be quoted,

but the minute the fellow gets through quoting it he will go sign a War

Contract for Cost Plus 10 percent.

In our Decoration day speechmaking Mr. Taft spoke at some unveiling of

a Monument in Cincinnati. He made an Alibi for the Supreme Court. I

don’t know what prompted him to tell the dead what the Court was doing,

unless it was some man who had died of old age waiting for a decision

from that August Body.

We can always depend on Judge Gary for a weekly laugh in his

speeches. But lately he had the prize wheeze of his career. He had

his accomplices make an investigation of the Steel Industry, and they

turned in a report that it was much more beneficial to man to work 12

hours a day than 8. They made this report so alluring that it is apt to

make people who read it decide to stay the extra 4 hours on their jobs,

just through the Health and enjoyment they get out of it. I never knew

Steel work was so easy till I read that report. Why, the advantages

they enumerated in this report would almost make a Bootlegger trade

jobs with a Steel Worker. But here is the kick. Judge Gary got up to

read this report before the stock holders who had made it out. He read

for one hour in favor of a 12 hour day. Then he was so exhausted they

had to carry him out, and Charley Schwab had to go on reading the sheet.

Now, if the Judge couldn’t work an hour, how did he expect his workers

to do 12 every day?

After Schwab read for 2 hours the audience was carried out.

It was the greatest boost for the 12 hour day I ever heard of. I am

thinking of going out there and working for them, but, if it is such

a pleasure to work 12 hours, I am going to try and get them to let me

work 18, at least, for I don’t believe I would get enough pleasure out

of just 12.

So if you don’t hear of me next week, you will know I just enjoyed

myself to death in Judge Gary’s Steel Mills in Pittsburgh.

WILSON COULD LAUGH AT A JOKE ON HIMSELF

[Illustration: FINALLY A WARDEN KNOCKED AT MY DRESSING ROOM AND SAID:

“YOU DIE IN 5 MORE MINUTES FOR KIDDING YOUR COUNTRY.”]

WILSON COULD LAUGH AT A JOKE ON HIMSELF

Some of the most glowing and deserved tributes ever paid to the memory

of an American have been paid to our past President Woodrow Wilson.

They have been paid by learned men of this and all Nations, who knew

what to say and how to express their feelings. They spoke of their

close association and personal contact with him. Now I want to add my

little mite even though it be of no importance.

I want to speak and tell of him as I knew him for he was my friend. We

of the stage know that our audiences are our best friends, and he was

the greatest Audience of any Public Man we ever had. I want to tell

of him as I knew him across the footlights. A great many Actors and

Professional people have appeared before him, on various occasions in

wonderful high class endeavors. But I don’t think that any person met

him across the footlights in exactly the personal way that I did on

five different occasions.

Every other Performer or Actor did before him exactly what they had

done before other audiences on the night previous, but I gave a great

deal of time and thought to an Act for him, most of which would never

be used again and had never been used before. Owing to the style of

Act I used, my stuff depended a great deal on what had happened that

particular day or week. It just seemed by an odd chance for me every

time I played before President Wilson that on that particular day there

had been something of great importance that he had just been dealing

with. For you must remember that each day was a day of great stress

with him. He had no easy days. So when I could go into a Theatre and

get laughs out of our President by poking fun at some turn in our

National affairs, I don’t mind telling you it was the happiest moments

of my entire career on the stage.

The first time I shall never forget, for it was the most impressive

and for me the most nervous one of them all. The Friars Club of New

York one of the biggest Theatrical Social Clubs in New York had decided

to make a whirlwind Tour of the principal Cities of the East all in

one week. We played a different City every night. We made a one night

stand out of Chicago and New York. We were billed for Baltimore but

not for Washington. President Wilson came over from Washington to see

the performance. It was the first time in Theatrical History that the

President of the United States came over to Baltimore just to see a

Comedy.

It was just at the time we were having our little Set Too, with Mexico,

and when we were at the height of our Note Exchanging career with

Germany and Austria. The house was packed with the Elite of Baltimore.

The Show was going great. It was a collection of clever Skits, written

mostly by our stage’s greatest Man, George M. Cohan, and even down to

the minor bits was played by Stars with big Reputations. I was the

least known member of the entire Aggregation, doing my little specialty

with a Rope and telling Jokes on National affairs, just a very ordinary

little Vaudeville act by chance sandwiched in among this great array.

I was on late, and as the show went along I would walk out of the Stage

door and out on the Street and try to kill the time and nervousness

until it was time to dress and go on. I had never told Jokes even to

a President, much less about one, especially to his face. Well, I am

not kidding you when I tell you that I was scared to death. I am always

nervous. I never saw an Audience that I ever faced with any confidence.

For no man can ever tell how a given Audience will ever take anything.

But here I was, nothing but a very ordinary Oklahoma Cowpuncher who had

learned to spin a Rope a little and who had learned to read the Daily

Papers a little, going out before the Aristocracy of Baltimore, and the

President of the United States, and kid about some of the Policies with

which he was shaping the Destinies of Nations.

How was I to know but what the audience would rise up in mass and

resent it? I had never heard, and I don’t think any one else had ever

heard of a President being joked personally in a Public Theatre about

the Policies of his administration.

The nearer the time come the worse scared I got, George Cohan, and

Willie Collier, and others, knowing how I felt, would pat me on the

back and tell me, “Why he is just a Human Being; go on out and do

your stuff”. Well if somebody had come through the dressing room and

hollered “Train for Claremore Oklahoma leaving at once”, I would have

been on it. This may sound strange but any who have had the experience

know, that a Presidential appearance in a Theatre, especially outside

Washington, D. C. is a very Rare and unique feeling even to the

Audience. They are keyed up almost as much as the Actors.

At the time of his entrance into the House, everybody stood up, and

there were Plain Clothes men all over the place, back stage and behind

his Box. How was I to know but what one of them might not take a shot

at me if I said anything about him personally?

Finally a Warden knocked at my dressing room door and said, “You die in

5 more minutes for kidding your Country”. They just literally shoved me

out on the Stage.

Now, by a stroke of what I call good fortune, (for I will keep them

always) I have a copy of the entire Acts that I did for President

Wilson on the Five times I worked for him. My first remark in Baltimore

was, “I am kinder nervous here tonight.” Now that is not an especially

bright remark, and I don’t hope to go down in History on the strength

of it, but it was so apparent to the audience that I was speaking the

truth that they laughed heartily at it. After all, we all love honesty.

Then I said, “I shouldn’t be nervous, for this is really my second

Presidential appearance. The first time was when Bryan spoke in our

town once, and I was to follow his speech and do my little Roping Act.”

Well, I heard them laughing, so I took a sly glance at the President’s

Box and sure enough he was laughing just as big as any one. So I went

on, “As I say, I was to follow him, but he spoke so long that it was

so dark when he finished, they couldn’t see my Roping.” That went over

great, so I said “I wonder what ever become of him.” That was all

right, it got over, but still I had made no direct reference to the

President.

Now Pershing was in Mexico at the time, and there was a lot in the

Papers for and against the invasion. I said “I see where they have

captured Villa. Yes, they got him in the morning Editions and the

Afternoon ones let him get away.” Now everybody in the house before

they would laugh looked at the President, to see how he was going to

take it. Well, he started laughing and they all followed suit.

“Villa raided Columbus New Mexico. We had a man on guard that night at

the Post. But to show you how crooked this Villa is, he sneaked up on

the opposite side.” “We chased him over the line 5 miles, but run into

a lot of Government Red Tape and had to come back.” “There is some talk

of getting a Machine Gun if we can borrow one. The one we have now they

are using to train our Army with in Plattsburg. If we go to war we will

just about have to go to the trouble of getting another Gun.”

Now, mind you, he was being criticized on all sides for lack of

preparedness, yet he sat there and led that entire audience in laughing

at the ones on himself.

At that time there was talk of forming an Army of 2 hundred thousand

men, so I said, “we are going to have an Army of 2 hundred thousand

men. Mr. Ford makes 3 hundred thousand Cars every year. I think, Mr.

President, we ought to at least have a Man to every Car.” “See where

they got Villa hemmed in between the Atlantic and Pacific. Now all we

got to do is to stop up both ends.” “Pershing located him at a Town

called, Los Quas Ka Jasbo. Now all we have to do is to locate Los Quas

Ka Jasbo.” “I see by a headline that Villa escapes Net and Flees. We

will never catch him then. Any Mexican that can escape Fleas is beyond

catching.” “But we are doing better toward preparedness now, as one

of my Senators from Oklahoma has sent home a double portion of Garden

Seed.”

After various other ones on Mexico I started in on European affairs

which at that time was long before we entered the war. “We are facing

another Crisis tonight, but our President here has had so many of them

lately that he can just lay right down and sleep beside one of those

things.”

Then I first pulled the one which I am proud to say he afterwards

repeated to various friends as the best one told on him during the

War. I said, “President Wilson is getting along fine now to what he

was a few months ago. Do you realize, People, that at one time in our

negotiations with Germany that he was 5 Notes behind?”

How he did laugh at that! Well, due to him being a good fellow and

setting a real example, I had the proudest and most successful night

I ever had on the stage. I had lots of Gags on other subjects but

the ones on him were the heartiest laughs with him, and so it was

on all the other occasions I played for him. He come back Stage at

intermission and chatted and shook hands with all.

Some time I would like to tell of things he laughed at during the

most serious stages of the Great War. Just think there were hundreds

of millions of Human Beings interested directly in that terrible War,

and yet out of all of them he stands, 5 years after it’s over, as the

greatest man connected with it. What he stood for and died for, will be

strived after for years.

But it will take time for with all our advancement and boasted

Civilization, it’s hard to stamp out selfishness and Greed. For after

all, Nations are nothing but Individuals, and you can’t stop even

Brothers from fighting sometimes. But he helped it along a lot. And

what a wonderful cause to have laid down your life for! The World lost

a Friend. The Theatre lost its greatest supporter. And I lost the most

distinguished Person who ever laughed at my little nonsensical jokes. I

looked forward to it every year. Now I have only to look back on it as

my greatest memory.

A JOB WITH THE JAMES FAMILY

[Illustration: I COULD JUST SORTER NONCHALANTLY STEP ON THE BRIDE’S

TRAIN.]

A JOB WITH THE JAMES FAMILY

Mr. Warren Gamaliel Harding.

President of these United States and

Viceroy of the District of Columbia.

Chevy Chase Golf Club, Washington, D. C.

My dear Mr. President,

I see where Mr. Harvey (I mean Col. or, rather, Ambassador) Harvey

is coming back here again. Now I don’t know if it’s a slumming trip

or just what it is, as he was here a few days ago. Maybe he forgot

something in one of his Speeches and is coming back for an Encore. But

in a later Paper I see where he is talking of resigning and not going

back. Now, if that is the case, I hereby make this an open letter to

you, Mr. President, as an application to take said Mr. Harvey (I mean

Editor) Harvey’s place.

I can tell by observation that it does not come under the Civil Service

or competitive examination. Neither, on the other hand, is it a purely

Political appointment, as Mr. Harvey adapted his Politics to fit the

occasion. Now that would not be even necessary in my case as I have no

Politics. I am for the Party that is out of Power, no matter which one

it is. But I will give you my word that, in case of my appointment, I

will not be a Republican; I will do my best to pull with you, and not

embarrass you. In fact, my views on European affairs are so in accord

with You, Mr. President, that I might almost be suspected of being a

Democrat.

Now I want to enumerate a few of my qualifications for the position

of Ambassador to the Court of James (I don’t know whether it’s St. or

Jesse). But, anyway, it’s some of the James Family.

My principal qualification would be my experience in Speechmaking.

That, as statistics have proven, is 90 percent of the duties of

a Diplomat. Now I can’t make as many speeches as my predecessor,

unless, of course, I trained for it. But I would figure on making up

in quality any shortcomings I might have in endurance. For you know,

Mr. President, there is no Race or People in the world who appreciate

quality as the English do.

Now, the way I figure it out, what one has to do is to make his

speeches so that they will sound one way to the English, and the direct

opposite to the Hearst readers back over here. Now George (I don’t

mean King; I mean Col.) was rather unfortunate in that respect; he made

them so they would sound two ways, but both Nations took the wrong way.

Now, for instance, if I wanted Mr. Balfour to take something back, I

would just kid him into it; make him believe I didn’t care whether

he took it back or not. You know how it is, just like the Democrat

Senators do with Lodge.

Another qualification that must not by any means be underestimated

is my Moving Picture experience. You see, for an official position

nowadays, we must pay more attention to how our public men screen if

we are to have to look at them every day in the news films. We must

not only get men with screen personality, but we must get men who know

Camera angles and know when they are getting the worst of it in a

picture and not be caught in the background during the taking of some

big event.

Europeans are far ahead of us in this line of Diplomacy, and, if you

don’t watch them, you are liable to be found photographed with the Mob

instead of the Principals. The thing is to do some little thing during

the taking of the picture that will draw the audience’s attention to

you. For instance, during some Court ceremony, I could just playfully

kick the King. Now you don’t know how a little thing like that would

get over with the public. Or, at one of the big weddings in the Abbey,

I could just sorter nonchalantly step on the bride’s train, as they

passed by, perhaps ripping it off, or any little Diplomatic move like

that. You don’t realize how just little bits like that would make our

Ambassador stand out over all the other Countries.

We have had an example of screen training right here at home. Take

Josephus Daniels when he was working. We spent 4 years sitting in

Picture Houses watching him launch Ships, and at every launching he

could place himself at such an angle that you not only could not see

the Democratic Governor’s Daughter who was to break the Ginger Ale, but

you couldn’t even see the Ship. Now that was not accidental; that was

Art.

And did you ever notice in the weekly News pictures how some Senators

can take a chew of Tobacco right in the scene and you catch yourself

watching them and no one else? Now those are just a few of the little

things that we have to look after if we want to hold our own as the

greatest Credit Nation north of Mexico.

Now, another thing, I ride horseback, so the Prince of Wales and I

could ride together and, on account of my experience with the rope, I

could catch his horse for him.

Then I play a little Polo, just enough to get hit in the mouth, but

the English would enjoy that. When they heard the American Ambassador

had got hit in the mouth and would have to cancel his speech at the

Pilgrims Club, why, that would of course be good news to everybody. You

see you have to give as well as receive in the Diplomatic Circles.

Now, to offset the above mentioned qualifications, I may lack a few

Social ones, but what I lacked in knowledge I could make up in tact. I

would not at any dinner pick up a single weapon until I saw what the

Hostess was going to operate with first. When in doubt, tell a funny

story till you see what the other fellow is going to do.

Then, of course, any glaring error on my part would be laid onto the

customs of my Country and not on me personally.

Then I have an economy measure to recommend me. The Government is

putting into commission the Leviathan, our biggest Ship, and I

could, by entertaining on the Boat going over, save passage fee. I

could arrange a Monologue on, “The Benefits and Accomplishments of

Prohibition,” and, as we passed the three mile limit, I could start in

delivering it and perhaps relieve, or rather add to, the dryness of the

trip. We would have to explain this to the Farmers of the country so

they would not think the ship was getting this feature for nothing. It

could not be considered as Ship Subsidy.

Now the feature that I feel rather modest about referring to, but

which is really my principal asset, is my being able to wear Silk Knee

Breeches--not only wear them, but what I mean, look like something in

them.

It seems that the Lord instead of distributing my very few good points

around as he does on most homely men, why, he just placed all of mine

from the knee down. Now that this thing has come over there, it almost

seems like I was inspired for the part. Say, I can put on those silk

Rompers and clean up. Now I don’t like to grab off a Guy’s job by

knocking him, but you know we haven’t had a decent looking leg over

there in years. Now Harvey’s! Oh, but what’s the use of arguing? You

know you can’t stay in the Follies 7 years on nothing. Well, it wasn’t

my good looks. So what was it but my Shape?

That brings us down to Golf. Now I will have to admit that my political

education has been sadly neglected as I have never walked over many

green pastures. Horses are too cheap for a man to spend half his life

walking over the country looking for holes in the ground. But as I

understand this lack of Golf will not handicap me in England as it

would over here, as Mr. Volstead has not percolated into that land

and the game is still fought out at the 19th hole. And, if I do say

it myself, I do talk a corking Game of Golf. Then another thing, in

looking over the results of the last two International Golf Tournaments

I don’t think they play the game there at all.

Now, Mr. President, if this suggestion receives the consideration that

I think it deserves, I should like to get the appointment at once, as I

want to get over there before all the king’s Children are married. If

one can’t attend a royal marriage, why, their ambassadorship has been a

failure as far as publicity is concerned for that event is the World’s

Series of England.

Now, if you can’t send me there, don’t, just because I have criticized

some of the feminine members of official life in Washington, don’t, for

the Lord’s sake, send me to Chile or Honduras or some of the outlandish

places. I will even promise to hush rather than that.

Now, as to Salary, I will do just the same as the rest of the

Politicians--accept a small salary as pin Money, AND TAKE A CHANCE ON

WHAT I CAN GET.

Awaiting an early reply, I remain

Yours faithfully,

WILL ROGERS.

P.S. If you don’t want me, Turkey wants me to represent them in

Washington. So where would you rather have me--in England or

Washington?

LET’S TREAT OUR PRESIDENTS LIKE HUMAN BEINGS

LET’S TREAT OUR PRESIDENTS LIKE HUMAN BEINGS

As I am writing this away out here in California days before you read

it, it’s Sunday and everybody’s thoughts and sympathies are with a

train rushing clear across our Country, passing sorrowfully through

little Towns with Just Folks standing bareheaded paying their respects

to Just Folks going back to Marion to stay with Just Folks.

He goes to his resting place a Martyr, a martyr to the Boneheadedness

of Reception Committees. You wouldn’t ask your hired man to do in one

week the amount of real physical work that each Committee asked him to

do on one day. Imagine three long Speeches in one day in Seattle at

different places, and Parade for two hours in the hot Sun with his hat

off most of the time, besides a thousand other things he was asked to

do.

Just suppose for instance you had a Guest coming to visit you. Would

you start in having him entertain the Neighbors the minute he got

in the House, and then keep every minute of his time occupied till

train time, and then turn him over to the next bunch? Why, no, you

wouldn’t think of such a thing. The first thing you think of when a

friend comes from a long Journey is to have him rest, but because it

is your President he don’t need any. So when the next Congress meets

they should pass a law to shoot all Reception Committees, or teach them

consideration for other People.

If Jack Dempsey had left Washington and undertaken this same strain,

when he got back Uncle Joe Cannon could have licked him.

Any of you who have slept, or tried to, on a Train at Night and got

into a Town early in the morning, you know you don’t feel like speaking

or Parading. You want to go to a Hotel and go to bed. Now can you

imagine the President’s case? Every morning at 6 A. M. to be awakened

by a Band (it wouldn’t be so bad if it was a good Band) and you look

out and there is the Town’s best Citizens in Antique Hats, ready to

show you the Fire House, the new Aqueduct, the High School, and City

Hall. The smell of the Moth Balls from the long tail Coats of the

Committee morning after morning, would give a man some kind of disease.

Now, every man on that Committee was nearly tired out at night and took

a vacation the next day, but the President must go right on the same

thing the next day, only worse, for every Town was trying to outdo the

other. It’s not only a hardship on the People you are entertaining but

hard on everybody participating.

One Town will have a Flag composed of 5 thousand children, assembled

and standing in the Hot sun for hours, not only spoiling their whole

day but subjecting them to every known contagious disease. The next

Town to be original will get 10 thousand Children to make up their

Flag, and Make Their Parade 10 Miles as the Last One Only Paraded 5,

even if they have to exhaust their Guest to do it.

Then, of course, he is always asked to speak out in the open. They have

60 acre Fields and put seats around them and call ’em Stadiums, and

expect a man to talk in them. Anyone who has ever spoken outdoors knows

what outdoor speaking does to your voice. The Town with the cheapest

land and most Concrete can have the largest Stadium.

I have always claimed that Parades should be classed as a Nuisance

and participants should be subject to a term in prison. They stop

more work, inconvenience more People, stop more traffic, cause more

accidents, entail more expense, and commit and cause I don’t remember

the other hundred misdemeanors. And what good are they? Half of them

going along you don’t know who they are, or what they are for. Even the

People in them hate ’em. The most popular joke I had after the War in

New York when the Boys were coming back and parading every day was, “If

we really wanted to honor our Boys, why didn’t we let them sit on the

reviewing stands and make the people march those 15 miles?” They didn’t

want to parade, they wanted to go home and rest. But they wouldn’t

discharge a Soldier as long as they could find a new Street in a Town

that he hadn’t marched down, yet.

Of course, keep Circus Parades, for they really give enjoyment not only

to kids but us old ones, too. As a remedy for this parading I would

suggest that each Town set aside one Street, away out where there is

nothing to interfere and give them that as Parade Street; then when

some fellow or gang wants to try out a new Uniform or honor somebody,

why let them parade up and down there just as long as they want to. If

you think Parading is popular just see how many would go over there to

see it. Parades nowadays think they are drawing a crowd when it’s only

people trying to get across the street to their business, not to see

you Parade at all. So just set them aside a Street--that will stop it.

The minute a Parader sees that no one is watching him he will stop and

in that way you will eliminate all Parades.

I was on the Reception Committee of the Movie Industry that was to

have met the President here in Los Angeles. Well, just as an example

of what I said about the others, they decided that it might be showing

partiality if they took him to any one Studio, so they decided to take

him to all of them. In that way they could take up his entire time.

Now, no one knew whether he wanted to go to any of them or not; we

were deciding for him. Can you imagine being a Guest of the City of

Carnegie, Pa., and the Committee showing you through all the Steel

mills in Town?

Now, President Harding was quite an admirer of the Movies so I imagine

he liked sausage, too. But Chicago didn’t rush him off to the Packing

Houses the minute he got there, to see it made.

According to his itinerary here, he was allowed 15 minutes to call

on an Aunt whom he hadn’t seen in years that lived here. That was to

be his only relaxation while here. We were waiting to see how long

Frisco’s Parade would run so we could run ours longer.

Now, as just an example of the trip, he loved Golf (and as the later

sad events have proven) it was good for him; it was the very Recreation

needed. But do you think these Committees let him do it? No Sir, he

only got out three times on the entire trip. I offered a suggestion

here when they were making the arrangements, but like everything coming

from a Comedian it was considered not practical. I wanted to let the

Reception Committee go ahead and rent the Suits and be at the Station

looking Funny just like these others he was used to day after day,

but instead of dragging him off where he didn’t know where he was

going, why just say, “Mr. President, we have engaged a room at the

Central Hotel. Here’s a Ford Car at your disposal. Here’s a Card to

any Golf Course in our Town. Now we know you are tired, so you just

make yourself at home these few days; do just as you please, we have no

plans for you at all.”

Well, my plan wasn’t adopted; it was too late. But if it had been even

partly tried in all the Towns on this trip we would have all been happy

and had him with us today. The first Town that ever does do that with

their visiting Guests and treat them as if Human, they will soon be

wondering where all their popularity comes from.

You may have read in the Papers last year that the Diplomatic Relations

were strained between President Harding and some of my Jokes on the

Administration. Now, I want to say that nothing was farther from

the truth. That was simply newspaper stuff. It was reported that he

couldn’t stand Jokes about the Administration. Why, he had a great

sense of Humor and could stand all the jokes ever told about him or his

Policies. The first time I met him Will Hays introduced me to him in

the White House and he repeated to me a lot of jokes that I had told

away before.

And I told him then: “Now Mr. Harding, I don’t want you to think I

am hard on you--all. You know I told some pretty hard ones on the

Democrats when they were in; in fact I think I told funnier ones on

the Democrats, as they were doing funnier things.” I explained to him

that it would not be fair to the Democrats to kid them while they were

down, but the minute they get their head above Water again I will take

a whack at them.

I met Will Hays just before I left New York in June and he said,

“Will, I had lunch with the President last week and he had me tell him

all your new stuff on the Administration.”

No, I don’t think I ever hurt any man’s feelings by my little gags. I

know I never wilfully did it. When I have to do that to make a living I

will quit. I may not have always said just what they would have liked

me to say but they knew it was meant in good nature.

I never go to Detroit that I don’t spend an entire day out with Henry

Ford and I don’t suppose there is a man living (barring the owners)

that have told any more jokes on him than I have.

I liked President Harding. You see I had met him, and I don’t believe

any man could meet him and talk to him and not like him. Why, I said

after first meeting him, “I thought I would be scared when they took me

in but he made me feel just like talking to some good old prosperous

Ranchman out home.” That’s why I can understand him wanting to meet

as many people personally as possible, for to meet him meant another

friend.

I only hope our Future Presidents can be gifted with his Sense of Humor

and Justice.

He was a mighty good friend to us Theatrical People; he was a good

friend to ALL kinds of People.

For he had the right dope after all. Everybody is JUST FOLKS.

HE WAS A REAL HONEST-TO-GOD-MAN.

WHAT WITH FRUIT JUICE AND CONSOMME, IT WAS A WILD PARTY

[Illustration: IF MR. FORD HAD BEEN ELECTED WE WOULD HAVE BEEN THE

MOUTHPIECE OF THE ADMINISTRATION.]

WHAT WITH FRUIT JUICE AND CONSOMME, IT WAS A WILD PARTY

The _Illiterate Digest_ is a weekly publication, devoted to straight

reading matter. We have no picture section and I doubt if we will

appeal to over 1%, of the Public as the success of a Publication is

based nowadays on the amount of Pictures and Advertising that they have

in them. Of course, all our news comes by Radio. But The Digest is a

tried and operating Paper. In fact we are old timers in the field. This

is our 4th issue and we have just bought out and combined The Weekly

Blowout, a paper that was sponsoring Mr. Ford’s Detour to the White

House. After his famous announcement that 90 per cent of the People in

this Country were satisfied, why, The Blowout couldn’t withstand such

untruth. Had Mr. Ford gone through and been elected why The Blowout

would have become the mouthpiece of the Administration. So, while not

crowing over the misfortune of a Competitor, we were able to procure

the Title of said Paper as soon as it had lost the chances of getting

our Government run as Mr. Ford would have run it on a “Tighten a Bolt

as it Goes By” system. Now The Digest and Blowout combined, is looking

for some other likely Candidate to boost. We have even got down to such

sore straits that a Populist would not be overlooked.

The Digest has some real inside Hollywood dirt to dish up to you. For

fear some competitor will get in and publish it first I will tell

just what happened at a Wild Party that was given tonight at the home

of the Editor of this very Gem of Truth. And what makes it worse the

head of our Industry that was hired and supposed to keep the Scandal

from our doorsteps, was the main Guest, Will Hays (the only man in the

history of Industry that was ever hired for a job without him or the

People that hired him knowing what he was hired for, yet still made so

good they couldn’t replace him). Will Hays, the man who made Harding

President, and the Movies (partly) behave.

Well my Wife and I, aided and encouraged by Daughter Mary decided to

put on a Wild Party. Hollywood had been getting all the Publicity and

selling all the Real Estate through their Scandal, and here was Beverly

Hills who could put it on just as Wild as they could, and we couldn’t

seem to get anywhere. So we looked around to find some Guest that

would be well enough known, so that when we carried him home he would

be recognized.

We thought of Will Hays. So about 6.30 P. M. who should come staggering

in from across the street from the Hotel but our Guest. His brother

was to have come with him, but the Brother is a Lawyer from Sullivan,

Indiana, and not having had the experience and capacity of Will he had

gone completely out earlier in the evening while being entertained by

The Womans’ Federation of Churches.

Well, Will was so loaded that he had on a dress suit. It was the first

one that had ever been in our House, so Bill Jr. and Jim, who had just

come in from Public School and refilled their Flasks commenced to laugh

at the Suit, and we put a sheet over the Chairs so that he wouldn’t get

it dirty.

But by this time he was feeling so good he didn’t care anyway, for the

Industry had bought it for him--and about this time another Guest who

lives right near fell into the door before we knew it. That was Miss

Pauline Frederick.

She was all primed for a real old prolonged Rough House. She had

brought the stuff along with her. She had under her arm a big bag

of knitting. She was knitting a Blanket for one of my Polo Ponies.

So we all staggered around there till one of the children thought of

introducing Miss Frederick and Will.

Then, to make the Party real devilish I was to go and get another man’s

wife while he was away at work. She lived next door, so I sneaked out

while my Wife wasn’t looking and dashed right into the home of the

young Mrs. Cornelius Vanderbilt Jrs. She slipped on something and we

both complimented each other on account of her Husband having to be at

the office getting out his Newspaper. She asked if the Party was to

be so wild that she should take her Gun. I said, “Sure, let’s do it

right.” So we blew back just as they are ready to get real wild and

start eating.

By this time Jim and Bill are becoming reconciled to Hays’ suit and

start playing Baseball in the House. Hollywood can’t put on anything

wilder than that. Hays by this time is feeling so good he is telling a

story complimenting a Democrat.

We all start off with a Fruit Cocktail and everybody commenced to

loosen up and tell their right Salaries. Then comes some Consomme and

I can tell you this old mixing of drinks is getting in its work.

Daughter Mary started doing a Wild dance in the Living Room until Jim

laid her out with a Baseball Bat. Then Hays got to telling what his Boy

could do, and the party just went from one Debauch into another.

Will told us of his trip to England with Ambassador Harvey. He said he

went for pleasure, and I tried to get him to really tell what he went

for. I think it was to get the Prince of Wales to come out for Coolidge.

Between drinks of Broiled Chicken I tried to find out if he was going

to be the Campaign Manager for Mr. Coolidge. But he seemed to think it

was such a sure fire thing, that they would waste some less expensive

man. I kinder sobered up for a minute and asked him what he thought

they would do in this investigation into the Tea Pot Dome Oil Lease. He

said he didn’t think they could show where Sinclair ever gave Sectry

Fall anything. He knew Sinclair was too smooth a giver for that.

I asked him what he thinks of us sending Warships to Mexico. So he

tells me what a hard time they had getting down there. Washington wired

to the nearest one to go down and it runs on the rocks before they got

through reading the telegram. You know our Navigators now depend on

Radio to tell them where they are.

The Navy hasn’t had a Compass in three years. They start on a trip and

the radio operator tunes in and gets Paul Whiteman’s Orchestra playing

somewhere, and when he comes to he is in a lifeboat. Bedtime stories

have put 9 ships to sleep.

Then I asked him who we were going to protect down there, he said, why

the Oil Men. I asked him who protects the Mexican Sheep Herder in this

Country if somebody interferes with his Industry, and if Mexico had a

Navy could she send it up here to protect him. He said No. So the moral

of this is, Be an Oil Man not a Sheep Herder, and be sure to be born in

a Country that has a Navy.

By this time we are all so full we have to leave the table, and the

noise of moving chairs is something deafening.

It’s now eight thirty and the neighbors can see the light in our house

and begin to phone in about it to the Police. Miss Fredericks’ Yarn

runs out, and she begins to yawn. Jim, Mary and Bill being younger and

less unaccustomed to the revelry, had to be literally carried to their

beds. Scandal was running rampant, while my wife was getting them off.

That left Bill and I with the two Women. I says, “What will we do,

Bill,” and he says, “Oh, I am in for anything.” So I just up and said,

“Let’s go down to the barn and look at the Horses.” So out we staggered

at 9 o’clock in the night in the heart of Beverly Hills. Bill Hays, a

man that is a leader in the Presbyterian Church--but it only shows you

when this old Movie Spirit gets in you, you will do anything.

I lasso four or five horses and bring them out and show them to Bill,

but he is all excited talking to the Ladies. They wanted to take a

ride, but I didn’t want to carry this thing too far. So we go back to

the house and I finally get them into their Coats and Hats and walk

them home.

My Wife and I we figure the walk will do them good. So when we come

back and get in the house why it’s actually 9:15.

So I hope by the aid of Bill to put old Beverley Hills on the map as a

Wild Town. Bill says to me, “Will, if the Woman’s Club ever finds this

out they will stop your pictures”. I says “That’s a good joke on the

Woman’s Club, my Pictures have never started.”

I know all the papers will have this so I just want to beat them to it.

WHAT WE NEED IS MORE FRED STONES

[Illustration: HE STARTED AT FOUR OR FIVE YEARS OF AGE AND HAS WORKED

ON NEW STUNTS EVERY DAY OF HIS LIFE.]

WHAT WE NEED IS MORE FRED STONES

Now I am not going to tell you any jokes today as jokes are not good

for you to read every day. You will have to look to the Washington

dispatches from Congress for your humor.

A Comedian is not supposed to be serious nor to know much. As long as

he is silly enough to get laughs, why, people let it go at that. But

I claim you have to have a serious streak in you or you can’t see the

funny side in the other fellow. Last Sunday night a Young Girl who had

made a big hit in the Salvation Army preaching on the Street in New

York, decided to go out and give religious Lectures of her own. So on

her first appearance I was asked by her to introduce her. She said she

would rather have me than a Preacher, or a Politician, or any one else.

Well, I could understand being picked in preference to a Politician, as

that is one Class us Comedians have it on for public respect, but to be

chosen in preference to a Preacher was something new and novel.

The meeting was held in a Theatre, as you have to fool some New

Yorkers to get them in to hear a Sermon. Well, it took no great stretch

of imagination to say something good for the Salvation Army, which,

by the way, lots of People think was made by the late war. Why, the

Salvation Army was just as great 10 years ago as it is today--not so

big, but just as great. Ask any down-and-out fellow and he will tell

you he knew of the good of the Salvation Army long before he ever heard

there was a Kaiser.

Well, it seems like a Coincidence that, as I was trying to say

something in a serious way for the first time before a New York

Audience, why, away out in Butte, Montana, the best friend I have was

going up to a Minister with a Bible in his hand and asking him if he

didn’t think “the Lord would recognize a Comedian.”

So that is why you will get this Story and no jokes today.

Now a great many people, knowing my regard and friendship for Fred

Stone, asked me if I was surprised. No, I was not. It was the shortest

jump, from his life to a religious one, that any man ever made.

But it was a BIG thing to do, and I am certainly pleased that he did

it, for it will have a tremendous influence for good, not only on the

people of our profession but on every one who reads about it. When you

consider that the biggest and highest salaried and busiest Man we have

in our profession can stop and give some of his time to religion, it is

a lesson to the rest of us. Now, it has been my good fortune to have

been very close friends with Fred for years. I have lived in his home

and spend all my spare time there while playing in New York. We Rope

and Ride and play together all the time. He has two wonderful homes on

Long Island, one all fixed up like a Western Ranch with lots of Horses

and a Polo field of his own on his place.

Then I am asked why he did this do I suppose. He did it because from

childhood he had been raised up by the Dearest old Mother and Father

you ever saw. That Christian teaching which she put into his head as

a little Kid, when he started out doing a Tight Rope walking act in a

little Circus, is just coming out. He was brought up to do right and

never knew anything else. Just to watch him with his Mother and Father

today you will understand he didn’t have to go far to see a Preacher.

Then he has the most ideal home life. His every thought is for his

Family. His Wife is of the profession, and I have often heard my Wife

say that Mrs. Stone is the most wonderful and devoted Mother she ever

saw (and Women have a way of knowing those things).

And three lovely Daughters, the oldest, Dorothy, 18, who is with him in

his show and is as talented as her Father and Mother. And so are the

others. All are being trained for a Stage career. So you see he don’t

think so bad of the Stage.

He is the best loved Actor on the Stage today. He plays to the highest

type audience of any Musical Show. He is the only Musical comedy

comedian that has Matinees packed with Children, for none of our other

Musical Comedy Comedians has ever been able to please the Children and

the grown ups too. He is as great a Pantomimist on the stage as Chaplin

is on the screen.

Now, people must not get the idea that this is a remote case in our

Business. It is, of course, on account of the prominence of the man

that we have heard so much of it, and if he had known that it would be

broadcasted in this way it would have been the only thing to make him

hesitate. No one can say that Fred Stone was ever a publicity seeker.

He is too sincere in all he does for that. I think if all Churches in

communities where Theatrical people live were canvassed you would find

there are as many of them in attendance as any other line of people.

And when you come to Charity and trying to help some one who is in

need, you will find them, not only holding their own, but far in the

lead of any other class.

This could not have come at a more opportune time as Preachers all over

are telling us that there is a gradual weaning away from the Church. If

this will only make people think just for a little it will have done

worlds of good.

I have sometimes wondered if the Preachers themselves have not

something to do with this. You hear or read a sermon nowadays and the

biggest part of it is taken up by knocking or trying to prove the

falseness of some other denomination. They say that the Catholics are

Damned, that the Jews’ religion is all wrong, or that the Christian

Scientists are a fake, or that the Protestants are all out of step.

Now just suppose, for a change, they preached to you about the Lord and

not about the other fellow’s Church, for every man’s religion is good.

There is none of it bad. We are all trying to arrive at the same place

according to our own conscience and teachings. It don’t matter which

Road you take.

Suppose you heard a Preacher say, “I don’t care if you join my Church

or the other fellow’s across the street. I don’t claim mine to be

better or worse than any other. But get with somebody and try and do

better.” Hunt out and talk about the good that is in the other fellow’s

Church, not the bad, and you will do away with all this religious

hatred you hear so much of nowadays. Then you will not only have one

Fred Stone but Millions of them.

Besides, it’s not that we need more people just to join Churches. It’s

that we need more Fred Stones, either in or out of a Church. For this

Man’s life is an object lesson to every Young Man or Boy starting out

on a career in any line of business. Sincerity put him where he is. He

never faked. No man his age in America has worked harder and been more

conscientious.

Another coincidence that happened applies directly to this case. I was

called on to testify in Court if I thought a certain Team of Popular

performers were UNIQUE AND EXTRAORDINARY. The whole case was based on

those two words. Now those two words mean a terrible lot. They mean

you must do something that no one else can do. So, regardless of the

popularity of the two performers and with all due regard for all that

others can do, I said they were not.

And I claim that the only one I know of in our entire profession who I

could rightly claim was unique and Extraordinary is this man that went

into a store and asked for a Bible. Went out and studied it according

to his best knowledge. (Which, by the way, is not so much as Book

learning goes. As Fred and I have figured up once. He got as far as the

fourth reader while I only reached the third. So that is why I think we

always hit it off together so well, neither was liable to use a word

which the other couldn’t understand.)

Fred Stone can do more things and do them well than any man in or out

of the Show Business or the Movies.

Why can he?

He is 49 years old and has spent 45 years practicing. Now, we have not

another man in America that has done that. He started at 4 or 5 years

of age and has worked on new stunts every day of his life and still

does. He always wanted to have something new for the people every year.

We have performers that have specialized on one thing that are great,

but not a one that can do the variety of things that he can. And the

wonderful part is it is clean wholesome entertainment that you are glad

to have your children see. So the clean does pay after all in any line

of business.

He was the originator of the present style of eccentric Dancing on the

Stage. In his dances he dances not only with his feet but also his Body

and face show you what he is trying to convey. The greatest compliment

I ever heard paid a dancer was said about him by another great dancer,

“Why Fred Stone can dance in a Barrel where you can’t see his feet and

still be a greater dancer to look at than the rest of them out of one.”

A corking good all-around Acrobat. He practiced for years just to get a

perfect One Hand Stand and never used it--just wanted to learn it. He

is one of the best Actor Ball Players. Boxed for years with Corbett,

who has always said that Fred could have been Champion at his weight.

Here’s a little tip for you, too. He can lick more men single handed,

if they start something with him, than can any Hero in the Movies

where they are trained to fall.

[Illustration: IF A RIDER HIT ON HIS HEAD, IT WAS ME.]