Will went about with me on my visits to various managers. He encouraged me in my intention and I was glad to interest him, to take him out of himself, as it were. His run of hard luck had preyed on his nerves and frayed his temper. There was reason for me to suspect he was drinking more than was good for him. Finally there came an offer of a small part in a musical comedy which had settled down for a run in New York. The fact that I was possessed of no great amount of vocal equipment did not preclude me from the field. The manager intimated that what I lacked in voice I made up in pulchritude, though I recall he referred to it as "shape." The salary was to be thirty-five dollars a week. The gowns were furnished--those worn by my predecessor--though I was called upon to supply my own shoes, silk hose and gloves. In reality I was to be nothing more than a show-girl, with a few lines to speak. Will was in front the night I made my début. After the performance we went to a restaurant, there to talk it over. Congratulating me on my "getting away with it" and telling me how "peachy" I looked, he laughingly predicted a line of Johnnies at the stage door, flowers, and the usual perquisites of the chorus girl.... "If you weren't wise to the game, I'd give you a few pointers," he said, ... "but" ... and here he reached across the table and patted me on the hands.... "I reckon you're equal to any situation, old pard.... Just sit tight until I again land on my feet and then you can cut it out, if you like."