little treasurer who day by
day fastened himself more firmly in the hearts of his colleagues.

Nor was this due to the fact that he was "Haverly's pocket-book," as the
men affectionately called him, and their first aid in all financial
need. He was the friend, confidant, and repository of all their
troubles. With characteristic humor he gave each member of the company a
day on which he could relate his hardships. He had a willing ear and an
open hand.

When he could not give them the relief they sought he invariably said
with that constant smile, "Well, I sympathize with you, anyhow."

Frohman was custodian of the company funds. One day in Denver four
members of the company found themselves without a cent. Charles had
tided them over so many difficulties that they hesitated to ask him
again. As they talked their troubles over they saw him coming down the
street. Instantly all four went down on their knees and held up their
hands in supplication. When Charles saw them he said, "How much do you
want?" And they got it.

He was always playing some practical joke. With half a dozen members of
the company he formed a little club which often had supper after the
play. This club was the fountain-head of a thousand jests and pranks. On
one occasion Charles suggested that for the sake of the novelty of the
thing every member of the club have his head shaved. The group went to a
barber-shop. Only one chair was vacant, however, and Charles Cushman
got that chair. While his dome was being shorn of every vestige of hair
Charles nudged the others and they crept away. When Cushman emerged,
bald as a babe, he found himself alone. The joke was on him.

In his joke Charles was usually aided and abetted by Johnnie Rice, one
of the many famous minstrels of that name. Rice could never resist the
temptation to stroke long whiskers. Whenever the house was unusually big
Charles took Rice out of the company for the first part and got him to
assist him with the ticket-taking. Any spectator with a long facial
hirsute growth was sure to have it caressed to the accompaniment of
"Ticket, please."

Sometimes the men in the company, knowing of Rice's eccentricity, often
watched the gallery for such a performance, and it invariably made them
laugh. Once while the Mastodons were playing an engagement at the
Olympic in St. Louis they were surprised to find Rice sitting in a front
orchestra seat, wearing a long pair of Dundreary whiskers. He looked