§ 246 Darkness Before the Dawn
A barn-storming troupe, specializing in Shakespearean repertoire, was fighting its difficult way through the middle west. For a month salaries had not been paid. One constable and two hotel-keepers were now traveling with the company, hoping to collect their claims.
On Tuesday morning of a certain week the leading man approached the manager.
“Let me have half a dollar, will you?” he said.
The manager gave him a hurt look.
“Say, what’s the matter with this gang, anyhow?” he demanded; “always wanting money. What do you think I am—a National bank, or something? It’s only yesterday that the heavy man kept nagging after me for two dollars. Said he wanted to get his laundry out. What does he need with laundry? Am I bothering about my laundry? No. Here I am working like a tiger to dig up railroad fares for you people and square up hotel-keepers and keep this show moving across the country until we run into some good territory. And now you come yelling for dough. What do you want with a half dollar, anyhow?”
“I’ll tell you what I need with it,” said the leading man. “You announced ‘Romeo and Juliet’ for the bill to-night, didn’t you?”
“Yes. What of it?”
“Well, you’re expecting me to play Romeo, ain’t you?”
“Sure I am.”
“Well, how in thunder do you figure I’m going to play Romeo with a three days’ beard? I’ve got to have a shave—so Romeo won’t come on with a quarter of an inch of black whiskers on his face.”
The manager considered the thick dark stubble on his star’s chops and saw the force of the argument. Slowly, he rammed a reluctant hand into his pocket, then, as a smile of relief broke over his face, brought it out empty.
“Tell you what we’ll do,” he said briskly, “we’ll change the bill to ‘Othello’!”