"Bear a hand," he said gleefully, "get to work and stick to it. We're
short of men," he added, "and there is no end of things for you to
do."
I did them all and he was right. There surely is no end to the things
he can devise for me to do. I long for the glamour and footlights of
the gay white way, but I have been cast out and rejected as many a
Show Girl has been before me.
_June 1st._ The morning papers say all sort of nice things about
Biff-Bang but I can hardly believe them sincere after the treatment I
received. I know for a fact that the man who took my place was
knock-kneed and that the rest of his figure could not hold a candle to
mine.
I still feel convinced that Biff-Bang lost one of its most
prepossessing and talented artists when I was so unceremoniously
removed from the chorus.
_June 10th._ I was standing doing harm to no one in a vague, rather
unfortunate way I have, when all of a sudden, without word or warning,
a very competent looking sailor seized me by the shoulders and,
thrusting his face close to mine, cried out:
"Do you want to make a name for yourself in the service?"
I left the ground two feet below me in my fright and when I alighted
there were tears of eagerness in my eyes.
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