ers of the
company had assisted I would be so gratified that I could scarce keep
back the tears.

All the clucks that hadn't chipped in would feel so bad because they
weren't included in my outburst of gratitude that nine times out of ten
they would sneak out and try to break into a jewelry store.

Then Saturday Alla and I would do the great divide.

Take it from me, when I came in off the road that season I had a roll of
the evergreen that looked like a bundle of hall carpet.

But now that I am an heiress I do not have to adopt those subterfuges in
order to get the daily Java. But I couldn't work those stunts on my
Wilbur; he's too wise, and being in the business he's hep to all that
kind of work.

He's a good, nice, honest fellow, as press agents go, and I think I can
safely trust him with my innocent heart.

If he don't--well, you know me. If he don't think he run up against the
business end of a cyclone it will be because I got throat trouble and
can't talk.

Honest, my fair young brow is commencing to get wrinkled trying to dope
out whether I want to become a bride or lead the free and easy life of a
bachelor girl.

Of course, if I get married and don't like it divorces are easy enough
to get, and then being a widow saves a girl a whole lot of
embarrassment, for she don't have to pretend to not understand some of
the innuendoes that are now and then sprung during the modern
conversations.

But, on the other hand, Wilbur isn't there with a very big fresh air
fund, and by perseverance I might cop out a Pittsburg millionaire and
become famous.

Marriage is worse than a lottery; it's a strong second for the show
business. You never can tell.

Wilbur sure does treat me nice--he's promised that I shall be a flower
girl at the Friar Festival when it comes off in May. Ain't that nice of
him?

Gee, but that's going to be the grand doings.

Are you going to the ball?

Say, the round of festivities I am pulling off lately would make a
person think I was a society bud.

Oh, come closer, listen. A certain party wants me to go out in
vaudeville. What do you know about that? Can you see me doing two-a-day
and getting in a contest with Eva Tanguay or Vesta Victoria or the
Russell Brothers. I would go in a minute, though I promised mother when
I quit burlesque that I would never again wear tights.

When I was in the business if I couldn't get a job on my voice all I had
to do was to flash a photo taken as Cap