to "do something," never essayed anything below a reading from
Shakespeare. How well he read I do not know, but he greatly impressed
me; and I can say that at least he had a voice which strangely stirred
those who heard it. Here was a man who made people laugh at the size
of his mouth, while he carried in his heart a burning ambition to be a
tragedian; and so after all he did play a part in a tragedy.

These notables of the ring, the turf, and the stage, drew to the place
crowds of admirers, both white and colored. Whenever one of them came
in, there were awe-inspired whispers from those who knew him by sight,
in which they enlightened those around them as to his identity, and
hinted darkly at their great intimacy with the noted one. Those who
were on terms of approach immediately showed their privilege over
others less fortunate by gathering around their divinity. I was, at
first, among those who dwelt in darkness. Most of these celebrities I
had never heard of. This made me an object of pity among many of my
new associates. I soon learned, however, to fake a knowledge for the
benefit of those who were greener than I; and, finally, I became
personally acquainted with the majority of the famous personages who
came to the "Club."

A great deal of money was spent here, so many of the patrons were men
who earned large sums. I remember one night a dapper little brown-skin
fellow was pointed out to me and I was told that he was the most
popular jockey of the day, and that he earned $12,000 a year. This
latter statement I couldn't doubt, for with my own eyes I saw him
spending at about thirty times that rate. For his friends and those
who were introduced to him he bought nothing but wine--in sporting
circles, "wine" means champagne--and paid for it at five dollars
a quart. He sent a quart to every table in the place with his