The Birmingham age-herald. [volume] (Birmingham, Ala.) 1902-1950, 1922-09-08
Has Anyone Met One of the
Real Human Can0ufldgeS?
ny DOLLY DALRYMPLE

By DOLLY DAIRY MPIE
A girl who has just come back
home from two years spent in New
York, an awfully good-sport- sort
of-ag girl. whom everybody from
the south knows and likes (espe-
eially from this burg), asked me the
other day IL l had ever met a hu-
man camouflage.
l baked a bit; l @didn't know
whether she was talking about
vegetable or a medicine. and then
l thought that as honesty IS the
best policy If you are not smart (and
I'm noD ia better say no." and
thereby save lot of complication
so I did
Well I'll introduce you to one,"
said the good-sport- sort of "a girl,
for II is nothing more or less than
plain, old. everyday, tacky alibi."
You mean / started to say.
Exactly" the good SPORT sort Of
a-girl replied. that before / left
New York the only time l really
was safe was at o'clock a. M,
when | was taking bath [ all
other hours l was liable to spoil
somebody's alibi."
What on earth was happening to
you?' / questioned, with vivid Curl
osity.
Mainly. I was rushed to DEATH"
replied the G. S. S. o. A. c.. "and
principally by married men"
How disgracefult, / exclaimed.
How dangerous" she supple
mented.
How Jolly" I intimated.
How boring" she declared.
Then why do it?'' l asked
Merely Because I'm
Merely because Tm-I;" she said
candidly, "and because Tn so years
old and haven't got husband, .and
all my friends have, and these hus
bands use me numerically when
they get to New York.
You know Jack-Jack B., don't
your" she veered around quickly.
DO | know him?" / said, turning
questioner. Doesn't every skirt
that flutters in the wind know him?"
One and the same" she observed.
well, Jack arrives in town; he has
my address in his inside pocket, my
telephone number and all (he's done
it before you see, and is in a state
of absolute preparedness) and eaiis
me up as soon as he hits TEN, L
say, Ann, I'm going to dine with a
bunch of fellows tonight and 60 to
the Follies afterward and then-er-
er-well. one of the fellows has
friend in the chorus, and-and--but
what | was about to say is this:
When Ethel gets here next Saturday,
remember ! dined with you, Ger
tainly.' replies the perfectly good
alibi, which is, being interpreted, my
little old self. But where did we
diner Oh, anywhere, replies the
gay and blithesome Jack. Ethel
L.. Ill T9.1.n
ian places--so suppose we just say
we had dinner on a revolving floor
somewhere in New York But !
can't eat on them the alibi resents.
You did this time declares the au
tocratic Kaiser-like Jack. Very
well, what else did we do7' asks the
poor little misused alibi. We
danced suggests the flfrtatious Mr..
Jack But l don't dance, you Know
replies the d-fashioned alibi. I
haven't tripped the light fantastic
in years and years. But you tripped
! 1t last night just the same comes
the stern febuke. And then he
rings off and the poor little alibi
is left to work out the situation so
she can tell a plausible lie to the
wife from Kokomo, Ind, or Bir-
mingham, as the case may be when
she arrives IN TOWN. next WeShs
Old Squeedunck
But does that happen often?" 1
asked.
Every two or three nights" said
the good-sport- sort-of-girl, "the very
next evening old Squeedunck calls
up. He does have the grace to send
me an orchid corsage to pay up for
using me, but he's worse than the
younger husband. He's so much
more afraid that mama will find
him out, SO he gives as many instruc-
lions to the poor little alibi as a
French general gives to his army,
and well he does. for when old Mrs.
Squeedunck arrives she rings little.
alibi up straightaway and asks it TO
lunch and the very first thing she
says as we sip a dry Martini at the
Ritz is: I'm SO glad, dearie. you
were in town when Mr.. Squeedunck
arrived ahead of me. for the poor
dear is that lonely that he cannot
abide New York. When 1 told him
you were in town he fairly jumped
for joy. He respects you so. dearie,
and / can trust you