FREE BOOKS

Author's List




PREV.   NEXT  
|<   823   824   825   826   827   828   829   830   831   832   833   834   835   836   837   838   839   840   841   842   843   844   845   846   847  
848   849   850   851   852   853   854   855   856   857   858   859   860   861   862   863   864   865   866   867   868   869   870   871   872   >>   >|  
ation. I showed it to several friends, but they all shook their heads. They said nobody would come to hear me, and I would make a humiliating failure of it. They said that as I had never spoken in public, I would break down in the delivery, anyhow. I was disconsolate now. But at last an editor slapped me on the back and told me to "go ahead." He said, "Take the largest house in town, and charge a dollar a ticket." The audacity of the proposition was charming; it seemed fraught with practical worldly wisdom, however. The proprietor of the several theatres endorsed the advice, and said I might have his handsome new opera-house at half price --fifty dollars. In sheer desperation I took it--on credit, for sufficient reasons. In three days I did a hundred and fifty dollars' worth of printing and advertising, and was the most distressed and frightened creature on the Pacific coast. I could not sleep--who could, under such circumstances? For other people there was facetiousness in the last line of my posters, but to me it was plaintive with a pang when I wrote it: "Doors open at 7 1/2. The trouble will begin at 8." That line has done good service since. Showmen have borrowed it frequently. I have even seen it appended to a newspaper advertisement reminding school pupils in vacation what time next term would begin. As those three days of suspense dragged by, I grew more and more unhappy. I had sold two hundred tickets among my personal friends, but I feared they might not come. My lecture, which had seemed "humorous" to me, at first, grew steadily more and more dreary, till not a vestige of fun seemed left, and I grieved that I could not bring a coffin on the stage and turn the thing into a funeral. I was so panic-stricken, at last, that I went to three old friends, giants in stature, cordial by nature, and stormy-voiced, and said: "This thing is going to be a failure; the jokes in it are so dim that nobody will ever see them; I would like to have you sit in the parquette, and help me through." They said they would. Then I went to the wife of a popular citizen, and said that if she was willing to do me a very great kindness, I would be glad if she and her husband would sit prominently in the left-hand stage-box, where the whole house could see them. I explained that I should need help, and would turn toward her and smile, as a signal, when I had been delivered of an obscure joke--"and the
PREV.   NEXT  
|<   823   824   825   826   827   828   829   830   831   832   833   834   835   836   837   838   839   840   841   842   843   844   845   846   847  
848   849   850   851   852   853   854   855   856   857   858   859   860   861   862   863   864   865   866   867   868   869   870   871   872   >>   >|  



Top keywords:

friends

 

hundred

 

failure

 

dollars

 

dreary

 

steadily

 

vestige

 

grieved

 

coffin

 
unhappy

vacation

 
pupils
 
newspaper
 

advertisement

 
reminding
 

school

 

suspense

 

feared

 
lecture
 

personal


dragged

 

tickets

 

humorous

 
husband
 
prominently
 

kindness

 

citizen

 

delivered

 

obscure

 

signal


explained

 
popular
 

cordial

 

nature

 

stormy

 

voiced

 

stature

 

giants

 
funeral
 

stricken


parquette
 
appended
 

plaintive

 

audacity

 

ticket

 

proposition

 

charming

 
fraught
 

dollar

 
charge