Only drawback is we are obliged to get me into civvies real quick instanter after a performance and I ain’t able now to leave by Mr McSweny’s door but John Cole got to take me out through the theatre saloon as two anonymous Joes and out along the alley with the heaps of bottles and spittoon slops. Pistol in his trouser belt snug as a squirrel. Because a few of them Johnnies fall in love with the shimmer and downright strangeness of the act. Guess they want to marry me. Or have me.
