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W. C. Fields
of impressive, feudal appearance, circled part of this chamber; from its place of vantage Fields often watched pool games. He made a pretty picture, reminiscent of a mellower age — the squire of the manor, glass in hand, shouting encouragement to the lords : "Eight ball in the side pocket, Joe — reverse English! Reverse English!"
In another of the downstairs rooms Fields had a barber's chair, with a number of towels, aprons, and so on. The comedian had his hair cut off the premises, as being fifty cents cheaper, but he needed the barber's chair for sleeping purposes. During the time of his joyless youth he had found haircuts among bis principal luxuries. After a night huddled in a frozen doorway and a morning selling papers on an icy corner, he would squander a quarter for the privilege of sinking deep into warm black leather, steamed cloths and bottled, upper-class scents. As his middle years advanced, his sleeping became an increasing problem. He discovered that by re-creating the snug impressions of his early trims he could doze in occasional peace. Many afternoons saw him stretched out in his chair, the aprons and towels tucked all around, dreaming of the old, brief comforts. His regard for his barber's skill was such that he kept trying to persuade the fellow, an Italian, to leave his brain to the Moler Barbers' College.
Upstairs, Fields had his exercise room, a large, sunny room filled with things such as rowing machines, stationary bicycles, Indian clubs, and steam cabinets. To this room came Bob Howard, the trainer, several times a week. He undertook the overhauling of Fields after rescuing from West coast erosion such notables as Lady Mendl, Cole Porter, Myrna Loy, Jon Hall, Irving Berlin, and Harry Richman. By comparison with Fields, this spirited group, together with his other clients, began to seem like lambs, but Howard hung on, determined to put the comedian in shape or join him in a sanitarium. After a fashion, Fields fol
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