I've always had a kind of sneaking feeling that I wouldn't have done so bad as an actor, if life hadn't called me into more serious and responsible affairs. Or maybe as a theatrical producer or playwright. Why say, when I was just a young fellow, trying to get along, as the fellow says, there was six or seven of us—or no, it must have been more than that; I guess in all, first and last, we must have had eleven or twelve different young men and ladies in the organization at different times, and we organized a dramatic organization, but amateur, you understand, and say, we put on "Charley's Aunt" and "Box and Cox," and say, without wishing to hand myself anything, I must say I always got the best hand in the show—I got the audiences there at the church entertainment laughing fit to die.
Although in some ways I've often wondered if I wouldn't 've done better as a dramatist.
Sometime when I get time—of course I haven't got the time for any such nonsense now; a man of affairs has got to be concentrated and not fritter