The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-08-28
CHAPTER " The Golden Jazz


 CHAPTER " The Golden Jazz Without warning the band burst | into a hurricane of sound The eff feet on Kittie was marked and i'm l mediate. Her head went back she snapped her fingers of both hands | like castanets. her shoulders began to move with a slight sidewise lnove- ment.
 "Au the music in the wor1d!'' she l exclaimed. bright-eyed, Do you dance l Sproggie?"
 Already several couples were on the floor. It struck Sprogget with sudden force; a desire to slip his arm | around her waist, to slide out to the time of the dangling music and be carried away in its tumult. Such is the appeal of jazz. | Why, yes, MT. Sprogget, why don't you two dancer" Miss Smith urged; but the sound of her voice the Westerner checked his impulse. | Suppose suppose we wait a while,' he said, without any appar- ent reason.
 A waiter. pad and pencil in hand, | was at his elbow. | 'I expect we had better order first | and get it over with" Kittie agreed She leaned forward and lowered her voice that the servitor might not hear Let me handle this boy. I'll get some real food. watchl" | She beckoned the man toward her | with one forefinger
 Don't trouble about any menus" | she said to him. Just tell us what you got in the kitchen. don't mean what you're tryin' to work off mean what you got that you'd eat yourself
 l
 Bring 'em; three plates What you got in English?> Got any oys- ters?''
 The man smiled, as though she had named his favorite food. Superb oysters!'
 Don't press-agent 'em too strong. Better let us have Lynhavens-some week. Don't try to slip us any that wasn't caught in a month with in it; get me- Ignatz?"
 Lynhavens large!" he mur- mured fondly. jotting it down. Per haps little Russian caviar on toast ?'' Noth1ng Russian for this party. Do we look like a bunch of anar- chists?"
 Some fish? The shad is excel lent"
 Firing it along. bo. How about some fowl?"
 II was about to suggest the can- vasback duck-
 Now you're talking my kind of language. Shoot three of 'em on the wind Tell the chef to stuff .en, with celery, Maybe we better have some vegetables. Got any of them little French peas that come in bot tles?"
 French peas in bottles" the waiter echoed. And fresh artichokes."
 Certainly, we'll have the arti- chokes, this ain't no ham-and-egg party"
 "That'n be about all, garcon. You might bring in some griIled sweet. breads and some endive salad with
 Roquefort dressing." The desert, please ?" Peach Melba, all around. Ther , the coffee, and that lets you out Beat it, and the kind of tip you're goin' to get depends on the kind ' of service you throw us,"
 When the waiter had departed Kit 1 tie explained her system Treat 'eu
 rough and they like it' By now th,
 last vestige of affected refinement O.
 speech was gone. Never let a waite,
 start to get fresh, or he'll rag yo, t to death. Don't worry, Miles; yo1,l get on to how to handle 'em after , = few lessons.''
 T don't think I ever should" Mis-
 Smith said.
 n Nor me-" Sprogget added. ,t Well, maybe not" Kittie admit y ted. ''1 guess we're all born 2, cer e tain way; we can't put in what don y belong, and we can't get out whs n does, But to me-it's the simnIes , thing on earthl" B. Again the flare and the crash r o- new tune in a riotous blare Tn pr floor filled quickly, for the dime m crowd was coming in rs pidly. Ther is was soft clinking of china as tb
 waiter served their table.
 ''How about that little danee ro,
 Miles, before he comes back with th q meal?" sii s-'
 "Fd like to very much but" is But what-you ain't a cripnIe ar d you ?'' At
 Sprogget smiled. I'm afraid re am," he admitted. "One of the fin n .n bers of an oil rigging fell across m lh foot last week. and I've been vva1l,in with cane up until today. I'd rk +o very much-'' ts "Oh, it might have crushed if an ny made you a cripple for life.u Mi, " Smith cried.
 "It might, but it didn't" Eitti
 said sensibly. '.Jt crippled ..in, I,
 just enough to spoil his dancin'. That