Pommery.

Bunch was beginning to get uneasy and I had a bad attack of fidgets.

"Say, Dodey!" our bright and shining light went on, "I want you to
make a fuss over these two young gents, because they are the only
nearly silk on the counter. They've put up their good cush to send
me on tour without ever dragging me before a Police Justice to
swear that I'm on the level, and if ever that gold mine----"

"Tush!" I interrupted. "I saw you work, Skinski, and you're a
wonder; that's good enough for my money."

"Yes, but you never once put a sleuth over the back trail to throw
the spot light on my past life," Skinski babbled on. "You're the
first white man that ever took a chance with me without lashing me
to the medicine ball, and I'll make good for you, all right, won't
I, Dodey?"

"You betcher sweet!" she mumbled, with a mouth full of Pommery.

"Say!" said Skinski to me, after we had ordered some breadstuff for
the leading lady, "you're not such a late train with the
sleight-of-hand gag yourself, Mr. Manager!"

"Oh! I'm only a piker at it," I replied, modestly. "I can do a few
moth-eaten tricks with the cards and I've studied out a few of the
illusions, enough to know how to do them without breaking an ankle,
but I'm not cute enough to be on the stage."