When I arrived at Chicago I went to the Trocadero, where I was to appear, and inquired for the manager. A tall slim fellow made his appearance in answer to the inquiry, and for some minutes a game of cross purposes ensued. For whilst I was not sure whether he really was the manager, he doubted whether I was the strong man whom he expected. At last, however, I ascertained that he was Mr. Ziegfeld, or at least Mr. Ziegfeld’s son, and he was assured that I was Sandow. He showed me round the theatre, which was a tremendous place, with accommodation for fully six thousand people. It had been originally an armoury, and was used more for concerts than variety entertainments. Mr. Ziegfeld had taken it because his other theatre, two days before the opening of the exhibition, was burned down. At the time of my arrival it was proving too big, but, as good luck would have it, such was the popularity of my performances, the building, despite its huge size, was filled nightly. In the exhibition grounds one morning shortly after my arrival, Mr. Ziegfeld suggested that I should drive round in one of the hand wagons. “My dear fellow,” I said, “it would never do for a strong man to be pushed round like that, what would the people say?” “Oh, they don’t know you yet,” replied Mr. Ziegfeld, “you get in and try it.” It was no use for me to chaff him by saying that these wagons were more suitable for idle fellows of his slim proportions, for inside he would have me get. Who of all people in the world should come to push me round but an unfortunate hunchback! The result was that next morning the papers came out with illustrations of the ludicrous scene, with the heading “The strong man too strong to walk.” At the termination of the World’s Fair, Mr. Ziegfeld proposed that I should prolong my tour. I accepted his suggestion, engaged him as my manager, and he booked a tour for me, including all the principal cities. Throughout this tour I offered at each performance ten thousand dollars to any person who could duplicate my feats of strength or even do anything that could be said reasonably to approach them. At St. Louis, one of the greatest beer brewing districts in the world, the challenge, I was informed, was to be accepted. The youth who was prepared to meet me, explained that he was somewhat too stiff to accomplish all my feats, and I accordingly promised that if he could repeat one of them, that was to lift with one hand over his head my heaviest dumb-bell weighing 300lbs., I would consent to give him the money.