W. C. Fields : his follies and fortunes (1949)

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sam {calm now and quite sour) : How much, Bill? fields : Four-fifty straight. sam (deathly pale) : Four weeks and option for four hundred and two. fields : Four-fifty straight, and six. sam: By God! I'll fields (rising) : Keith's sam: Four-fifty straight. And let me say that for a thieving, low-down, infernally fields (leaving, with an expression of offended dismay) : See you, Sam. He shifted back and forth across the country, over to Europe, back again — always on the move, always in a hurry, and endlessly planning for the future. It was a desperate, uneasy kind of life, and all down the line it took its count. "I had the feeling," Fields once told a friend, "that although I didn't actually have anything right now, I was working to have something soon. I think that was the part that got next to me — all was going fine, but I didn't have anything, somehow. I was on a train rushing toward a good place, but I couldn't seem to get there." He was never satisfied; he never slept soundly. He conceived an urge to appear in a different kind of show, and he wangled a part with Mclntyre and Heath, two famous blackface comedians of the day, in a hybrid production of Klaw and Erlanger called The Ham Tree. It had a sort of story line but was essentially a vaudeville show. Dramatically, it did little for Fields, since no sooner had he got the part than he set up a clamor to juggle. Mclntyre and Heath, if we may believe their friends, had never before encountered a performer of Fields' persuasion. Within a 121