



Produced by Roberta Staehlin, Charlene Taylor, John Campbell
and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at
http://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images
generously made available by The Internet Archive/American
Libraries.)









  TRANSCRIBER'S NOTES

  Italic text is denoted by _underscores_.

  Obvious typographical and punctuation errors have been corrected
  after careful comparison with other occurrences within the text and
  consultation of external sources.

  More detail can be found at the end of the book.




  NAT GOODWIN'S BOOK




  NAT GOODWIN'S
  BOOK

  BY

  NAT C. GOODWIN

  ILLUSTRATED

  [Illustration: (Publisher's colophon)]

  BOSTON

  RICHARD G. BADGER

  THE GORHAM PRESS

  TORONTO: COPP CLARK COMPANY LIMITED




  COPYRIGHT, 1914

  BY NAT C. GOODWIN AND RICHARD G. BADGER

  _All rights reserved_


  THE GORHAM PRESS, BOSTON, U.S.A.




PREFACE


In penning memoirs or autobiographing it is extremely difficult to
avoid writing impersonally, yet I shall strive to avoid it as much as
possible, not so much from a sense of duty as from a standpoint of
mercy.

I have never enjoyed reading about myself and I am firmly convinced
that there are few who have. Perhaps, if I am tempted during this
review to give myself an opinion of myself, it may be received with
favor even by those critics who have never agreed with any of my
characterizations.

I started this little work with some degree of terror. I had such a
poor background to frame my somewhat checkered career upon. I fully
realized that a man must be a very great person, or at least imagine
himself to be, to write an autobiography. But finally after listening
to the advice of friends I approached myself, albeit surprised at my
temerity. After having read many autobiographies I discovered that
most nearly-great persons who indulge in the dissipation of giving to
the world their opinions of themselves were either born in dilapidated
garrets or on unproductive farms.

As there were no trees in my garden of youth nor a candle placed in
an empty bottle to shed its effulgence upon my future life I wondered
how I could diversify and be truthful, yet entertaining. A feeling of
apprehension akin to that which always follows the first night of one
of my productions took hold of me. I wondered how this little effort
of mine would be received.

When reading a criticism the morning following a production I am always
fearful of being found out. If I am condemned I know I have been!
But after I have fully digested all the unkind criticisms, which are
usually written by those who do not fancy me in any serious effort, I
am in the end always superlatively happy in knowing that the critic has
done his duty.

If I had my way, he would be doing TIME!

Generally he is so blissfully ignorant of what he prates about that I
have a silent chuckle all to myself at the expositions of his glaring
and blatant incompetency. Yet it has always been a question in my mind
whether the public enjoys reading vituperative attacks upon its stage
favorites particularly after it has been entertained and amused the
previous evening. I think that it is thoroughly satisfied with its own
verdict and resents another's antagonistic to it. It much more enjoys
reading something of the actor's private life particularly when it can
read something which exposes his or her particular vagaries. And the
public is prone to believe everything the visionary gentlemen of the
press chronicle. The more unwholesome it is the more it believes; the
more suggestive, the more palatable.

You have only to put any sort of halo around an actor or a cigar, good
or bad, to beget a following or a smoker!

Unfortunately the halo that the public has been kind enough to place
above me will not bear minute inspection. It is opaque. However, being
unable to escape it I have always been content to smile within and when
the haloed one has been supposedly exposed I can do nothing but sit
tight and accept the inevitable. At times it has been a bit harrowing
to submit, yet it has taught me self-control which I will endeavor to
exercise in this little work. If I am tempted to use the personal
pronoun more frequently than necessary I shall deflect and command my
thoughts, to wander among more agreeable persons. Having lived so long
within the confines of my kindly bestowed halo I have become fully
aware of my limitations. The agreeable personalities are easily found
and I hope my readers will enjoy their companionship as much as I have
enjoyed them.

Every reference made to these delightful people is inspired by the
kindliest of feelings and if I have judged one or two more harshly than
they seemingly deserve the error is of the head, not of the heart;