True to her word, the moment the hour was spent, I was asked to sit
down to a banquet on the end of the cook's table, and the order issued
to give me all the corned beef, cabbage and boiled potatoes I wanted.
The pie, cake, ice-cream and pudding were not on the dishwiper's menu,
at least not that day, but I was to have all I wanted of what was given
me, and that meant a great deal. Regaining the street, I felt a strong
desire for a bath, clothes and all. Again approaching another appendix
to the correctional laws of Cleveland, I asked for the free public
baths. "Gad," he said, as he eyed me closely, "how many baths do you
take a day?" He then referred me to Cleveland's two public baths, which
were so far out that he advised me decidedly to take a street car.
"And are they absolutely free?" I demanded.
"No, one will cost you five cents and the other two."
I went to the lake.
In my little bundle I carried a small mirror, a hairbrush, a piece of
soap, a couple of white collars and a towel. Ye gods, what a bath that
was! The water was four degrees below freezing. However, I soon had on
the expression of the United States Senator whom I was to impersonate
at the Opera House that night, who wouldn't buy a vote, no, not if he
died for it, who could sit in the four o'clock Y. M. C. A. Sunday
afternoon meeting with a face as long as a fiddle, and an expression
that to the thought of a jackpot would prove fatal. Not one of the
elite in the great audience that night ever dreamed of the battle I had
gone through that day in Cleveland for the privilege of sitting in that
honored seat!
We were an exceedingly interesting group of millionaire senators,
for three-fourths of us were broke. After our great act, I timidly
approached the manager, and asked him if he would please advance me a
quarter as I had no place to sleep nor the money to buy a place. No, he
could not think of doing so. It was not their custom to pay until the
last performance. An old "senator" of sixty-eight years who sat next to
me, one of the many in the same plight I was in, was waiting to learn
the result of my plea.
We then began to try to find a place to rest, for that we must have.
Our act was not over until nearly ten-thirty o'clock, compelling us to
be out late. My brother senator knew Cleveland better than I did and
proposed going to the "charity" free lodging house where we could pay
by sawing wood an hour or more the next morning. We made our way to the
old rookery, which was in a hole down under the hill, but when we got
there it was closed and dark.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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