I sang in bigger places on that tour, and the last two weeks were in Glasgow, at the old Scotia and Gayety Music Halls.  It was at the Scotia that a man shouted at me one of the hardest things I ever had to hear.  I had just come on, and was doing the walk around before I sang my first song, when I heard him, from the gallery.

“Awa’ back tae the pit, man!” he bellowed.

I was so angry I could scarce go on.  It was no fair, for I had not sung a note.  But we maun learn, on the stage, not to be disconcerted by anything an audience says or does, and, somehow, I managed to go on.  They weren’t afraid, ever, in yon days, to speak their minds in the gallery—­they’d soon let ye know if they’d had enough of ye and yer turn.  I was discouraged by that week in old Glasgow.  I was sure they’d had enough of me, and that the career of Harry Lauder as a comedian was about to come to an inglorious end.

But Moss and Thornton were better pleased than I was, it seemed, for no sooner was that tour over than they booked me for another.  They increased my salary to four pounds a week—­ten shillings more than before.  And this time my position on the bill was much better; I neither closed nor opened the show, and so got more applause.  It did me a world of good to have the hard experience first, but it did me even more to find that my confidence in myself had some justification, too.

That second Moss and Thornton tour was a real turning point for me.  I felt assured of a certain success then; I knew, at least, that I could always mak’ a living in the halls.  But mark what a little success does to a man!

I’d scarce dared, a year or so before, even to smile at those who told me, half joking, that I might be getting my five pound a week before I died.  I’d been afraid they’d think I was taking them seriously, and call me stuck up and conceited.  But now I was getting near that great sum, and was sure to get all of it before so long.  And I felt that it was no great thing to look ahead to—­I, who’d been glad to work hard all week in a coal mine for fifteen shillings!

The more we ha’ the more we want.  It’s always the way wi’ all o’ us, I’m thinkin’.  I was no satisfied at all wi’ my prospects and I set out to do all I could, wi’ the help of concerts, to better conditions.

CHAPTER V

There was more siller to be made from concerts in yon days than from a regular tour that took me to the music halls.  The halls meant steady work, and I was surer of regular earnings, but I liked the concerts.  I have never had a happier time in my work than in those days when I was building up my reputation as a concert comedian.  There was an uncertainty about it that pleased me, too; there was something exciting about wondering just how things were going.

Now my bookings are made years ahead.  I ha’ been trying to retire—­it will no be so lang, noo, before I do, and settle doon for good in my wee hoose amang the heather at Dunoon on the Clyde.  But there is no excitement about an engagement now; I could fill five times as many as I do, if there were but some way of being in twa or three places at once, and of adding a few hours to the days and nichts.