The Sorrows of a Show Girl: A Story of the Great "White Way"McGaffey, Kenneth
General
The Sorrows of a Show Girl: A Story of the Great "White Way"
McGaffey, Kenneth
Theater -- Fiction
"I come out of the hay and am getting ready to call him to a
fare-you-well when he flashes his bundle. My anger vanished in a
moment and I just reach out and cop the coin and roll over and
goes to sleep. Wilbur sleeps on the floor until I took
compassion on him and rolled him on the lounge. Talk about your
wifely devotion, what! I count the roll in the morning before I
slip it to the purser for safekeeping and it assayed $1,245,
which is not half bad for a night's work.
"The wise guys come around and offer Wilbur $100 a night to stay
out of the smoking room and he won't do it, but tells them if he
catches them playing another game during the trip he will turn
loose the long Rebel yell. Now the two wise guys are sitting on
deck reading 'The Lives of the Saints' and making faces at
Wilbur every time he goes romping by. Ain't Wilbur the saucy
thing?
"The last night on board we gave a concert for the benefit of
the Seamen's Fund, or something like that, and I claim that it
was a classy affair. I appeared, and without any brag or
ostentation I can truthfully say that I scored a great personal
triumph. It wasn't so much what I did, but the winsome manner in
which I did it. Get that? Wilbur was the manager of the affair
and didn't shake down a cent.
"What do you think of that? He said that a sailor needed all the
money he could get and he would be the first man not to take it
from them. I made my big hit at the concert in reciting 'Lasca.'
One of the mates told me that somebody does 'Lasca' on every
trip, but I was the first one that furnished scenery by letting
down my hair. I wonder if he was kidding me?
"A great many of the ladies on board spent all their time in
playing Bridget whist, and after watching them for a couple of
afternoons they offered to teach me the game with a moderate
limit. I am hep to this poker thing and can look a pat hand in
the face without a quiver of the lip, but I must blushingly
admit that I thought I was in for a good old-fashioned trimming
when I got up against those dames. It cost me about fifty
dollars to learn, and then I had a streak of beginner's luck,
and before the whistle blew for dinner I was several hundred to
the velvet.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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