I rushed down
to Paul Tausig, the steamship agent on 14th Street,
and purchased four full tickets when I needed but
three. The ages of my children were two, four, and
fifteen. All this happened last spring.
It was while
purchasing the tickets [that] I heard a fellow
standing next to me talking out loud. "Say,
can't I exchange some pulp money for real Yankee
coin?" said he. Turning around, I recognized Hal
Godfrey. "What are you doing here?" said
Hal. "Going to London," said I. "Oh!
Mercy on you, Joe," said he; "I've just got
back away," and Hal walked out with a look of
pity on his face.
said to Tausig:"Can I get my money back?"
Tausig said:"Not very well now; you see the deal
has been made." That night one friend would
sympathize; another would say:"Go to it, old
man; it's opening up a new field. You'll be a
riot," but what Hal said was most prominent.
I went home and told the family London was all
off. Tears streamed down little Buster's face;
mother's too. Visiting friends said:"Don't
disappoint Mr. Butt, manager of the greatest music
hall in the world." So they persuaded me to go.
night around the "42nd Street Corners" I
met old pals, with cheering words, and took in quite
a load of Ehret, neglecting to check my baggage. I
did this on purpose. "The Boys", thinking
they were doing an Old Pal a favor, hurried our
trunks to the pier and carried me to the boat,
shoving me up the gangplank.