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SHOWMAN
his gun and wing one of our convicts in a misguided effort to aid the police. That never happened, however, while I was managing the stunt. The only trouble I had with it came from the actors who had to wear the costumes— they were pretty choosy about the kind of local citizens I selected. And you couldn't always fix things to suit. In Winnemuca, Nevada, I remember, the white population turned me down cold, and the best I could do was hire four Paiute Indians. I suppose the Paiutes are as noble savages as any, but there was no denying that they deserved the reputation they had throughout the West of being the favorite campinggrounds of all the different kinds of insects that prefer human society. When our actors, sitting on the hotel porch with their feet on the railing, saw their costumes come kiting down the street with four lousy Paiutes inside of them, they reacted pretty violently. Their first move was to a drug-store to buy all the insecticide in town. Their second move was to the theater to shake their fists under my nose and ask for an explanation.
There was only one end of the ballyhoo department that I didn't partake in— the activity known in those days as "doubling in brass." We and most other troupes always hit town with a brass-band procession down the main street, the band continuing to play in front of the theater until a short time before the performance. The racket raised by a couple of cornets, a trombone, a tuba, a clarinet, a French horn, a snare-drum and a bass-drum made certain that every soul in the place, whole or
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