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

W. C. Fields and he only wondered what had held them up. He jumped up nimbly to his feet, ran inside, and came back out with his pistol. Aided by Miss Monti and Miss Michael, the fellows persuaded him of their harmless design, and Fields relaxed enough to converse with them for an hour or so, but he kept the pistol cocked and ready, on his lap. The onset of his illness had brought from New York his wife and son, who moved to California, it was said, in order to help him in his hour of need. A story had gone around Hollywood, and even reached a few newspapers, including the column of Leonard Lyons, that Fields had refused his son admittance to his home. A visitor to Seboba one week end, William Le Baron, sounded Fields out on this rumor. "There wasn't anything to it, was there, Bill?" he said, probing gently. "An unidentified youth put in an appearance at my gate," replied Fields with austerity. "What happened?" The youth had rung his bell, Fields related with pleasure, and had asked to see his father. This request, relayed to the comedian by his butler, resulted in the butler's returning to the gate to ask for credentials. "I haven't got anything but my driver's license," the young man said. "I'll take that, sir," the butler told him, and carried it in on a salver. "He could have forged it," said Fields. "Go back and ask him for additional proof." "Well, I know he's my father," insisted the visitor a minute later. "I know it because I'm his son." In the face of this deadly logic, Fields told the butler to admit him. "I'll take a look," he said. "Hello, Father," cried the young man, when he got inside. "How are you feeling?" 3J4