orld. He was always running to one or the
other "to get somebody out," or they to him to get him to contribute
something to something, or to sing and play or act, and betimes they
were meeting each other in hotel grills or elsewhere and having a drink
and telling "funny stories."

Apropos of this sense of humor of his, this love of horse-play almost, I
remember that once he had a new story to tell--a vulgar one of
course--and with it he had been making me and a dozen others laugh until
the tears coursed down our cheeks. It seemed new to everybody and, true
to his rather fantastic moods, he was determined to be the first to tell
it along Broadway. For some reason he was anxious to have me go along
with him, possibly because he found me at that time an unvarying
fountain of approval and laughter, possibly because he liked to show me
off as his rising brother, as he insisted that I was. At between six and
seven of a spring or summer evening, therefore, we issued from his suite
at the Gilsey House, whither he had returned to dress, and invading the
bar below were at once centered among a group who knew him. A whiskey, a
cigar, the story told to one, two, three, five, ten to roars of
laughter, and we were off, over the way to Weber & Fields (the Musical
Burlesque House Supreme of those days) in the same block, where to the
ticket seller and house manager, both of whom he knew, it was told. More
laughter, a cigar perhaps. Then we were off again, this time to the
ticket seller of Palmer's Theater at Thirtieth Street, thence to the bar
of the Grand Hotel at Thirty-first, the Imperial at Thirty-second, the
Martinique at Thirty-third, a famous drug-store at the southwest corner
of Thirty-fourth and Broadway, now gone of course, the manager of which
was a friend of his. It was a warm, moony night, and he took a glass of
vichy "for looks' sake," as he said.

Then to the quondam Hotel Aulic at Thirty-fifth and Broadway--the center
and home of the then much-berated "Hotel Aulic or Actors' School of
Philosophy," and a most impressive actors' rendezvous where might have
been seen in the course of an evening all the "second leads" and "light
comedians" and "heavies" of this, that and the other road company, all
blazing with startling clothes and all explaining how they "knocked 'em"
here and there: in Peoria, Pasadena, Walla-Walla and where not. My
brother shone like a star when only one is in the sky.

Over the way then to the Herald