Marshall P. Wilder had just come off the stage at Shea’s in Buffalo. His act had not gone at all to suit him, and he stood shaking his head and wondering what was the matter. A big, fat acrobat who was closing the show noticed him and said,

“What’s the trouble, Kid?”

“I don’t know,” said Wilder, “but I can’t seem to make them laugh.”

“Augh, don’t you worry about that; you ain’t supposed to; you draw ’em in; we’ll make ’em laugh.”

A girl who was opening the show at Keith’s Providence house stood in the wings watching the Four Fords in their wonderful dancing act. At the end they came off, panting and gasping from their violent exercise. The girl watched them a moment pityingly, then said,

“Tough work, ain’t it? I used to do all that stuff; but I found there wasn’t any money in it, and I cut it out.”

Robert Hilliard came off the stage at the Fifth Avenue Theater in New York; the house was small and he had not gone very well. A big, rough, knockabout comedian stood waiting his own turn to go on, and seeing Hilliard looked worried, said to him,

“What’s the matter, Bo?”

“They did not seem to care much for my offering,” said Hilliard.

“Why sure they don’t; you don’t hand it to ’em right. Give ’em the Gravy, Cull, give ’em the Gravy. I do.”

William Hawtry had made his debut in Vaudeville and his friends at the Lambs’ Club were asking him how he liked it.

“Well,” said Mr. Hawtry, “I must say I found the audience very responsive; and the theater employes were very kind; but I met some of the strangest people, among the Artists, that I ever saw.”

Upon being asked wherein they were strange, he replied,

“Why, there is a fellow dressing with me who has the largest diamonds and the dirtiest underwear I ever saw.”