same experiences off the stage. I once tried to tell an
old German gentleman in St. Louis a story that had been highly
recommended to me as being funny. It was about a man going up to a St.
Louis policeman and asking him the quickest way to get to the Mt. Olive
hospital. The policeman told him to go over to Grogan's saloon and call
the bartender an A. P. A.

Then I waited for the laugh. And immediately I knew I had a Toronto
audience. The old man studied a moment, then said,

"Why did he not tell him to take an Olive Street car?"

* * * * *

An old lady from Brooklyn was visiting us. I told her one of Lew
Dockstader's stories. How he had a girl over in Brooklyn. Her father was
an undertaker. And Lew could always tell how business was with the old
man by the looks of the table. If he had had a good job lately there
would be flowers on the table, and ice on the butter.

I waited for the laugh. "But the giggle that he longed for never came."
The old lady looked up with a look of interest and said,

"Did he say what their name was? Perhaps we knew them."

* * * * *

I met a banker in Toronto. I tried to tell him a story referring to the
banking business, hoping against hope that I might get one laugh in that
city. I told him about a colored man who went into a colored bank down
South and wanted to draw out his deposit of twenty dollars that had been
in there for eight years. And the colored cashier told him he did not
have any money in there. That the interest had eaten it up long ago.

"Yes," said the banking gentleman, with a pitying smile, "very clever.
But he was wrong, you know; interest adds to your principal, not
detracts."

* * * * *

[Illustration: Playing Hoboken.]

William Cahill was playing Hoboken. Hoboken is entirely Dutch. William
is entirely Irish. Result, William, on his opening show, did not get a
laugh or a hand. After his act was over he stood around, dazed, for a
few minutes; then he made his way over to the "peek hole," looked out
and sized up the audience carefully, then turned away, muttering to
himself,

"This is a h---- of a place for an Irishman."

* * * * *

[Illustration: Carrying "The Old Man" With Her.]

Mr. and Mrs. Harry Foy carried a nurse-maid for their little girl. When
I came in to the theater I would always go in and speak to the
nurse-maid and