True to her word, the moment the hour was spent, I was asked to sit down to a banquet on the end of the cook's table, and the order issued to give me all the corned beef, cabbage and boiled potatoes I wanted. The pie, cake, ice-cream and pudding were not on the dishwiper's menu, at least not that day, but I was to have all I wanted of what was given me, and that meant a great deal. Regaining the street, I felt a strong desire for a bath, clothes and all. Again approaching another appendix to the correctional laws of Cleveland, I asked for the free public baths. "Gad," he said, as he eyed me closely, "how many baths do you take a day?" He then referred me to Cleveland's two public baths, which were so far out that he advised me decidedly to take a street car.
"And are they absolutely free?" I demanded.
"No, one will cost you five cents and the other two."
In my little bundle I carried a small mirror, a hairbrush, a piece of soap, a couple of white collars and a towel. Ye gods, what a bath that was! The water was four degrees below freezing. However, I soon had on the expression of the United States Senator whom I was to impersonate at the Opera House that night, who wouldn't buy a vote, no, not if he died for it, who could sit in the four o'clock Y. M. C. A. Sunday afternoon meeting with a face as long as a fiddle, and an expression that to the thought of a jackpot would prove fatal. Not one of the elite in the great audience that night ever dreamed of the battle I had gone through that day in Cleveland for the privilege of sitting in that honored seat!
We were an exceedingly interesting group of millionaire senators, for three-fourths of us were broke. After our great act, I timidly approached the manager, and asked him if he would please advance me a quarter as I had no place to sleep nor the money to buy a place. No, he could not think of doing so. It was not their custom to pay until the last performance. An old "senator" of sixty-eight years who sat next to me, one of the many in the same plight I was in, was waiting to learn the result of my plea.
We then began to try to find a place to rest, for that we must have. Our act was not over until nearly ten-thirty o'clock, compelling us to be out late. My brother senator knew Cleveland better than I did and proposed going to the "charity" free lodging house where we could pay by sawing wood an hour or more the next morning. We made our way to the old rookery, which was in a hole down under the hill, but when we got there it was closed and dark.
