"Seven Come Eleven", And Eleven Was The Number For Mr. Ted Lewis

Immaculate in a faultless dress suit and wearing the battered silk topper for which he is internationally famous, Ted Lewis, the "High-hatted Tragedian of Song", walked in from the stage of the Metropolitan Theatre in Boston where he is appearing this week, and obligingly submitted to a few pertinent questions by the CRIMSON reporter.

The first query was naturally: "What about the high hat?" to which Mr. Lewis gave a long and interesting explanation. It seems that 17 years ago while playing at the famous Rector's cafe on Broadway he became engaged in a friendly "crap" game with a little colored cabby who was an institution around the place, and in the course of the evening won from the latter his most prized possession, a shiny silk topper. That night Lewis wore the hat during his performance at Rector's--probably for laughs--and it caused so much comment that he's worn it ever since.

Upon being asked what type of music he prefers, Lewis replied that originality of presentation is what he deems all important, and it is for that that he continually strives. "It isn't how much you toot your horn," says Ted, "but it is how you toot it, with what intention--with what delicacy--with what feeling. It is the artistry of your tooting that counts."

When pressed for facts concerning his training and start, Ted explained that he was a self-taught musician, having first picked up the rudiments as an apprentice in a music shop in his home town, Circleville, Ohio. His four brothers all attended college, but the music bug took hold of Ted at an early age, and he began his vaudeville career at the tender age of nine. Incidentally, the movie in which he played recently and which supposedly represented the story of his life, was classed by him as "ordinary movie hokum".

With a rush and a wave of the hand the "High-Hatted Tragedian" dashed to his dressing room to rest up before the next act.