would you believe it?--my father was mayor of Emporia for nearly two
terms. You'd be surprised if I told you my real name and some of the
people I am related to. Say, what are you going to do with that book?
Trying to dope out whether you can buy another drink, I suppose."

"No. I'm just keeping track of the girls I met whose fathers are mayors
of towns. I've got forty-seven for Providence, R.I., fifteen for Peoria,
Ill., ten for Atlanta, Ga., and your two makes seven for Emporia. I've
got fifty-three for chief of police, twenty-one fire captains, and
eleven postmas--"

"Excuse me, but are you trying to infer that I am telling an untruth?"

"Oh, forget it! Can't you stand a little jolly without going up in the
air?"

"Well, I'll accept your apology, but I don't like to have people casting
slurs on my pa and ma, and beer wont appease my wrath when I feel like a
highball.

"Go as far as you like. I was only ordering what I thought you were
accustomed to."

"Say, Mr. Percival B. Fresh, you certainly are the village wag when it
comes to the Oriental repartee, ain't you?"

"Sure I am, but I have to go to the mat when they commence to dish out
this Emporia humor. Oh. Laza! Do you care for the one in red?"

"Of course I may go wrong, but in my mind no gentleman would make