21T.S.Eliot Memorial-Laurence Oliviers Lap

I had a great friend in England. His name was C.S. Eliot, Napoleon. No, Paul, there are people out here who might not know that he was a famous English poet. As a matter of fact, he was born in St. Louis, and moved in.

He wrote me a letter, and he said I'd like a picture of you with a cigar on him. You know, one of these. So I sent him a picture of me and he retained it.

He says, I want a picture of you, smoking a cigar. So I sent him one smoking a cigar and we got very well acquainted. And I had read up on T.S. Eliot, miter in the Cathedral and a few things like that.

And I thought I'd impress him. And all he wanted to talk about was the Marsh brothers. That's what happens when you come from St. Louis. Well, he was a wonderful man. He was a great friend of mine. But eventually, he died.

He had a great memorial, and Mrs. Elliot had asked me to go on the stage and say a few words about her late husband. So I went in around four o'clock in the afternoon, and the stage job was locked, and I went through the front of the theatre, and I walked down the aisle. And there was stidgy in darkness, and I couldn't see anything.

I don't see too well anyhow. Is there anybody out front? At any rate, I finally felt my way down to the front row. And I sat down. And I'm now sitting and I can't think of his name.

It'll come to me in a couple hours. Did I say, oh, how that woman could cook? No, it was true. I was sitting on cantatime and glad. It was dark.