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wanted. Her name was Kitty Carlisle. Phyllis and Kitty became immediate, life-long friends. To this day, she's one of our dearest and closest friends. They have two wonderful kids. The first one, a boy, was named after our son Chris. We were very, very close.

Moss never tired of talking about the days when he was poor. A couple of summers he was the merrymaker at one of those Catskill resorts, you know, where they always have a master of ceremonies. The stories Moss told us about those days on the borscht circuit! We used to roll on the ground laughing at them. We all begged him to put it in a book one day.

So he started Act I, which was to be the story of his early days before he hit the big money. He would read pieces to us, and of course we'd love them. I'll never forget the day, however, after he had written about four chapters, when he began to go into one of these sloughs of despond. He wanted to tear the whole thing up, and I almost physically had to keep him from doing so. Just before he finished it, we went through the same agonizing routine.

Well, Act I was finished and it was enchanting. It was about as good a book about the theater as has ever been written. Just before it came out, Moss asked, “How much money do you think that I'm going to make out of this?" I said, “Well, books about the theater have never been wildly successful. Though this one is bound to have a good sale. I think it should go to 25,000 or 35,000 copies and then be