From Under My Hat

Whilst the greatest effort has been made to ensure the quality of this text, due to the historical nature of this content, in some rare cases there may be minor issues with legibility. Once upon a time there was a six-toed cousin. Mine. When I first saw him, I knew I was in show business. Kids in the neighborhood couldn't afford pennies, but I made them pay five pins every time they got a look at him. At the time when my six-toed cousin and I were in busi ness, I was Elda Furry. I was born in Hollidaysburg, Pennsylvania, a peaceful, pretty town fourteen miles out side the industrial city of Altoona. In the West we'd call it a suburb, although the Hollidaysburg citizens might want to hang me for using that term. I made my entrance into this world June 2 (i'll skip the year because I don't want anyone following me around with a wheel chair) during one of the gaudiest electrical storms ever seen in the community. The heavens opened up and so did I. It is said that I came in screaming. Mother didn't rightly know which was making the most noise, but she found out soon enough. The elements quit, but I didn't. Born with good lungs, I've never stopped exercising them. Today I can outshout any producer in Hollywood. When I was three we moved to Altoona. My growing pains were done to the rhythm of hard work; 1 never had it easy. What school learning I got was as sketchy as my knowledge of men. I didn't make a high school, and boys didn't seem to like me much. I had only one beau in Altoona, but I won't fool you, I've had several since. When life became intolerable at home, I ran New York and went on the stage. There I met Hopper. Inasmuch as I left home to escape being a butcher's daughter, it seems ironical Spend the rest of my life dealing in ham. But for De Wolf Hopper, this been written. Life with him was a liberal education. He set my feet upon the way.