There were no Negro vaudeville circuits then, and the Hills took care of all the business details. Whenever we'd get booked into a city they'd write, enclosing photographs, to theaters in nearby places, asking for dates. Sometimes we could get only thirty-five dollars for the act, so the big trick was to avoid long railway jumps between engagements. None of the theaters paid traveling expenses, although they would advance enough for railroad fare. For our act the Hill Sisters and I did the same numbers that we'd done in Baltimore. I sang, besides "St. Louis Blues," "I'm Going to Shake That Tree until the Nuts Come Down," "I Wanna Be Somebody's Baby Doll So I Can Get My Lovin' All the Time," and "Come Right In and Stay a While, There Ain't Nobody Here but Me." Our finish was a number together in kid clothes. In the five-and-dime stores we'd buy lace and sew it on the short dresses we wore in that part of the act. We'd put pink, yellow, and red slips under the dresses. The Hills danced, were kickers, and did the split, and I had nice-looking legs. When singing my numbers I'd wear my hair up in a Merry Widow roll. But for the kid routine I'd let it down, and it looked pretty, hanging down to my waist. The Hills both wore false hair. White men owned and ran most of the little ramshackle theaters we played. Each night you had to be careful to take home everything, leaving nothing at all in the theater. The management held itself responsible neither for your property nor your life. << less