.

And, noo, I'll be asking you--why should they come tae me? Because I'm
before the public--because they think they know I ha' the siller? Do
they nae think I've friends and relatives o' my ain that ha' the first
call upon me? Wad they, had they the chance, help every stranger that
came tae them and asked? Hoo comes it folk can lose their self-respect
sae?

There's folk, I've seen them a' ma life, who put sae muckle effort
into trying to get something for nowt that they ha' no time or leisure
to work. They're aye sae busy writin' begging letters or working it
aroond sae as to get to see a man or a woman they ken has mair siller
than he or she needs that they ha' nae the time to mak' any effort by
their ain selves. Wad they but put half the cleverness into honest
toil that they do into writin' me a letter or speerin' a tale o' was
to wring my heart, they could earn a' the siller they micht need for
themselves.

In ma time I've helped many a yin. And whiles I've been sorry, I've
been impressed by an honest tale o' sorrow and distress. I've gi'en
its teller what he asked, or what I thocht he needed. And I've seen
the effect upon him. I've seen hoo he's thocht, after that, that there
was aye the sure way to fill his needs, wi'oot effort or labor.

'T'is a curious thing hoo such things hang aboot the stage. They're
aye an open handed lot, the folks o' the stage. They help one another
freely. They're always the first to gie their services for a benefit
when there's a disaster or a visitation upon a community. They'll earn
their money and gie it awa' to them that's in distress. Yet there's
few to help them, save themselves, when trouble comes to them.

There's another curious thing I've foond. And that's the way that many
a man wull go tae ony lengths to get a free pass for the show. He'll
come tae me. He'll be wanting tae tak' me to dinner, he'll ask me and
the wife to ride in a motor, he'll do ought that comes into his head--
and a' that he may be able to look to me for a free ticket for the
playhoose! He'll be seekin' to spend ten times what the tickets wad
cost him that he may get them for nothing. I canna understand that in
a man wi' sense enough to mak' a success in business, yet every actor
kens weel that it's sae.

What many a man calls meanness I call prudence. I think if we talked
more o' that virtue, prudence, and less o' that vice, meanness--for
I'm as sure as you can be that meanness is a vice--we'd come n