The Washington herald., 1913-11-02

a windy corner"
Anything else?"
Il saw a hick. Right before my eyes.
Y see, dropped my taxi at Fourteenth
Street, and ducked into the subway just
to get taste Of that celebrated canned
air. And what d. you think saw, the
first thing? A Rube got up and gave his
seat to lady. 1 was sitting comfort
ably on somebody's mother at the time.
and 1 wanted to lead that hick aside
and say, Not done, old chap-not in
New York; but 1 let him go his suicidal
way. Wallingford'n get him before
morning
Betsy stood before the mirror and
pointed sugsestively at the unlocked
void in the back of her gown.
Sweet Maple!' sighed the Little
Booster, settling down to a desperate
struggle with the intricacies thereof,
the dressmaker that built this dream
must "a had an awful lot o. time"' The
days Of his bondage had begun.
Don't make any quick moves" Brian
cautioned his wife, because every time
you do 1t starts a waiter this way. and
that costs you five dollars extra"
The bill was nineteen dollars.
Score three!' warbled Brian, keeping
imaginary tab on his cum. He led Betsy
rather hastily toward the foyer. 1t was
getting on toward 10 o'clock, and round
the corner, glaring amid Internal glories
OF jumping gigantic electric images,
stood the Cabaret de Pobsterre, home of
tangled tangoes where Baal feeds fat,
uhaFa haafhan xrh fka
Turk trotteth till dawn.
Most OF the tables were already taken
when they entered. Young Mrs. Blaney
was not too young to note the two types
OF women: Those who had come and
those who had been brought-the former
characterized by elaborate compilations
inside infantile hats; their lips were
bold, their eyes were cold.
Let's twirI!'' came Brian's enthusiast
tic voice in Betsy's ear, for the band
had now struck up Wen row, row,
row." and many couples took the floor.
every Jack to his jill. every Bacchus to
his Bacchante. By way of divertisse-
ment, a Princeton gladiator had arisen
from a tableful of college boys, and was
inviting the head waiter 10 put him out
Lets go!'' pleaded Betsy, seizing
Brian's arm.
stick around. kid" Brian urged I'VE
needn't be afraid OF this dansong stun.
All New Yorks doin' it"
.'I'll bet half the men here are travel
ing statesmen from Duluth. Don't be a
hick"' This was Betsy's quelling word.
Speaking of dicks" whispered her
husband, nudging her sharply. Took
what's just come in!''
who is hep
''The Rube 1 saw give his seat to a
lady in the subway. He's hopeless"
For. even at the word the newcomer
who wore buttoned tan shoes-was Or
dering a Manhattan cocktail.
He must be the King OF the Hick-
ories,' mumured Brian, becoming more
and more concerned. Amt it pitiful"'
The object of Brian's commiseration
called to him the head waiter, and, in
the presence of the whole room. handed
him a five dollar bill. Then he lit a
cigar, and kept the band on.
Hes got every one of O'Malley's How
TO Tell a Hick' marks except he don't
shave his neck. Probably he's waitin'
for the barber shop to open in the morn
ing"
He's rather nice-looking." said Betsy,
land he wears a good suit of clothes
"whiskers! There ought to be a So
ciety for the Protection of Him. I've a
good mind to give that lone yokel a tip
before he falls in the hands Of"
Down the aisle came a fiorid, familiar
face. The head waiter pulled out a
chair next the unprotected stray. And
the person who occupied the seat, pre-
senting a cordial palm TO the helpless
hick, was none other than G. Hunter
McCosh. the superannuated bunco man
of the d. & II. G.
McCosh's broad back was toward
Brian, therefore he could not see his
neighbors, although close enough to be
easily overheard. Brian quickly forgot
the charms OF tango in the study of
bunco as the elderly rascal laid his fat
palm caressingly over the hand Of the
younger man, who was neat and rather
small, with oyster-colored eyes and a
saIlow mustache.
mo. my boy; you can't AFFORD to miss
this" began McCosh. in the tone of
thick gravy. Take an old mans ad-
vice and" The rest was lost in the
musical racket.
Opportunity knocks but once at the
door good as smelted gold :. as
proved by our specimens"-these scraps
In McCosh's soothing tone.
"If we could only find place to talk
more quietly"
1T is kinda noisy here" McCosh ad-
mitted. "supposing you and me go over
to Gothamia grill the details of this
splendid proposition"
Come onr' breathed Brian in Betsy's
ear.
'swhere?''
ITO the Gothamia grill"'
It was easy to see why the more or
less skilful Mr. McCosh had chosen the
Gothamia grill A lunchroom in one
OF the largest hotels. 1t opens, howeriike.
at the hour Of noon. and doses again at
sunset. when the interest Is diverted to
the Fragonard dining room upstairs or
the Bohemian music-hall In the base
ment.
"A gunman's delight exclaimed
Brian. IF I stabbed man here and
dragged him into the elevator, how
would Hearst ever catch me? .
wa,ter." A blue Alsatian mountaineer
approached giibly. Bring a pitcher Of
blond beer and lemonade"
The waiter retreated. and the door
was darkened by the shadow of a pomp-
ous person leading a slender youth Of
hcsitatirg mein.
Pretty work. murmured Brian. They
sat at a table far out Of ear-shot but
wen within view.