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W. C. Fields
plied to Fields. He stands up well among the great moneylovers of his day. In fact, few persons in any profession have ever had a more wholesome regard for a dollar. He realized that if audiences were cool to his act Irwin would drop him without a qualm, and he planned his campaign accordingly. As punishment for his greed, Irwin decreed that Fields should lead off the bill — an impossible spot for a juggler. Stragglers and program rustlers blurred those delicate climaxes so vital to the appreciation of precise sleight of hand. However, of the opening performance, in Newark, a critic wrote, "Easily the best act on Irwin's bill last night was the opener, an up-and-coming youngster named W. E. Fields. We'll keep an eye on you, Mr. Fields!" Fields was undisturbed by the fact that the critic misfired on his middle initial; it was five or six minutes after the paper hit the street when he appeared in Irwin's office.
"Seen the reviews?" he said pleasantly.
"That's a hard edition to make," said Irwin. "Most of the boys have to leave real early."
"It's here on page five," continued Fields. "Man says, 'Easily the best act ' "
"This is the minor league," Irwin assured him. "The real critics come later."
"I didn't get to finish," Fields said. "What I was about to say was, I need fifty a week."
Irwin howled like a man stricken, but he had little choice. He agreed to the fifty, and the tour proceeded. It went smoothly as far as Cincinnati, where a reporter for the Inquirer wrote, "Fields was a scream. Irwin has a real find there."
A few minutes after edition time, Fields, heavy with papers, sought out the manager again.
"Looked over the news, Fred?" he asked, having decided, democratically, on the given name.
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