paid his fare, had no intention of abandoning it, shrank terrifiedly into a far corner, but stuck it out. Taking this as a reflection upon their acting, Gay and my father clinched and rolled down into the straw which, in winter, always covered the floor of the busses as protection for the cold feet of the passengers. The remaining spectator climbed hurriedly upon his seat, held his umbrella before him as a shield and shrilled to Gay, "Kill the brute, kill him!" But he valued his ten cents more than his life and never passed the door.
The only child of an idolizing mother and widow, I grew up a spoiled brat. I repaid my mother's idolatry with idolatry; but as her love demanded no sacrifice whatever, I became a selfish young pup intent exclusively on making the world my oyster. I was Willie in my childhood, and in later years I have been Will or Wolfie to my friends. DeWolf, my stage name, was born of the vanity of youth. I despised the Quaker plainness of Hopper, and William had a plebeian sound to my fastidious ears, but I thought D'Wolf, my middle name, distingué. In later years I have regretted that affectation, but it no doubt was, unconsciously, a shrewd move. The actor, like soap and hair nets, finds
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