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

CHAPTER FOURTEEN F jtlEL ields formed distinct impressions of audiences wherever he went. He made notes on localities, and provided himself with hints about future appearances. He believed that, in order, Washington, Kansas City and St. Louis were the toughest cities on the vaudeville run. "They are the igloos of the theatrical world," he told a reporter. "Even the managers in those communities never know whether to give their patrons Sarah Bernhardt or trained seals." He worked hard in all three places, but his receptions were shifty. Sometimes when he felt that conditions were ripe for a collapse, Washington would greet him with loving zest. In St. Louis, when the carnival spirit was elsewhere high, his patrons looked suicidal. And in Kansas City bitter suffering was often written on every countenance. Over a period of years Fields tried to resolve these paradoxes. The indeterminate trio haunted his dreams. He had a nightmare, he once told his secretary, in which a judge's voice, organlike and funereal, reverberated through a hollow chamber. It said, "The prisoner is sentenced to face a mixed audience of St. Louisians, Washingtonians and Kansas Citians each night for the remainder of his life. Bailiff, lead him to the theater and let the punishment begin." As he studied the foe, Fields discarded many theories. He took 13*