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tie Didn't Know Better
By
DOROTHY MANNERS
I
N my comings goings among
and the
exalted, I have heard many causes 1( aded in the name of line, but Fred Scott is lit first to blame it all II ignorance.
"I sometimes thmk," aid Fred, looking as hough he really made a labit of it, that "ig•orance is an underated condition. It pares us so much. W ithout it, it would be too asv to give up anytbmg It the first rebuff. On he other hand, being in I pleasant state of un
onsciousness, many of
IS press on, convinced ■^■^^^H^^H^^^^^BB
hat we are indefati:able. Often it isn't until
wi have achieved a fair amount of success that we realize difleiently — and then it is too late.
When I first came to Los Angeles from Fresno, 1 was firmly, convinced that I was the only good singer in these parts ..."
It is hard to visualize this boy as ever having been sold on himself, even in his juvenile stage. He is quite the shyest person I have ever met from behmd the cameras.
le reminds you of no other actor, because he is not like an actor at all. I doubt if you could even call him handsome, though he is pleasant-looking in an out-of-door sort of wav. If Fresno hadn't been his birthplace, Texas would have served nicely. He even has that drawly, slow wav of talking, seasoned with a Will-Rogersonian brand of dry humor. Just when he is on the verge of being slightly ill at ease, that same humor rushes to his rescue. His hair is dark, and I think his eyes are blue.
"I was quite the vocal works up in F"resno," he continued, in that drawl, after sufficient probing. "Sang in the church choirs, and for the visiting E^lks and that sort
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of thing, on the slightest provocation. Naturally, I got it into my head that Fresno was cramping my. style as a baby Caruso. Such talent deserved a wider field of expression."
He looked at me sort of sheepishly, to make sure I was sharing m this laugh on himself.
"I'd heard about the famous Alberti, who was conducting a vocal school in Los Angeles, and if he was as good as they said he was. I figured he should have the opportunity to coach me. So down I came, blissfully unaware that I was anything but a greenhorn who was good enough for small-town sociables — and no better than that.
"I'll never forget that first audience with Alberti. I ran a few scales for him — sang a song or two. I his great old gentleman listened to me for a moment and then shook that wise old head of his. 'My boy,' he said, 'you are wasting your time cultivating that voice. You are wasting your money. I don't know where you came from, but I would advise you to go back there.'
"I was flabbergasted. I was bewildered. But I was not hurt or discouraged. I was too ignorant for that. 1 figured that this kind old gentleman didn't know what he was talking about. Wasn't I, the pride of Fresno quartets, offering myself to him in all my glory.' It was just a mistake. He was wrong.
Wni. E. Thomas
if
He Couldn't Be Discouraged
'M not going back home,' I told him. 'I don't care what you say. I'm going to stay here and studynot with you — with someone else.' I could feel this {Continued on page lOy)
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