TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES Italic text is denoted by _underscores_. Obvious typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected after careful comparison with other occurrences within the text and consultation of external sources. More detail can be found at the end of the book. NAT GOODWIN'S BOOK NAT GOODWIN'S BOOK BY NAT C. GOODWIN ILLUSTRATED [Illustration: (Publisher's colophon)] BOSTON RICHARD G. BADGER THE GORHAM PRESS TORONTO: COPP CLARK COMPANY LIMITED COPYRIGHT, 1914 BY NAT C. GOODWIN AND RICHARD G. BADGER _All rights reserved_ THE GORHAM PRESS, BOSTON, U.S.A. PREFACE In penning memoirs or autobiographing it is extremely difficult to avoid writing impersonally, yet I shall strive to avoid it as much as possible, not so much from a sense of duty as from a standpoint of mercy. I have never enjoyed reading about myself and I am firmly convinced that there are few who have. Perhaps, if I am tempted during this review to give myself an opinion of myself, it may be received with favor even by those critics who have never agreed with any of my characterizations. I started this little work with some degree of terror. I had such a poor background to frame my somewhat checkered career upon. I fully realized that a man must be a very great person, or at least imagine himself to be, to write an autobiography. But finally after listening to the advice of friends I approached myself, albeit surprised at my temerity. After having read many autobiographies I discovered that most nearly-great persons who indulge in the dissipation of giving to the world their opinions of themselves were either born in dilapidated garrets or on unproductive farms. As there were no trees in my garden of youth nor a candle placed in an empty bottle to shed its effulgence upon my future life I wondered how I could diversify and be truthful, yet entertaining. A feeling of apprehension akin to that which always follows the first night of one of my productions took hold of me. I wondered how this little effort of mine would be received. When reading a criticism the morning following a production I am always fearful of being found out. If I am condemned I know I have been! But after I have fully digested all the unkind criticisms, which are usually written by those who do not fancy me in any serious effort, I am in the end always superlatively happy in knowing that the critic has done his duty. If I had my way, he would be doing TIME!