stamped viciously.

"Damp in the heels?" murmured the guilty one, interrogatively. "In the
heels, said you? What a very odd place for dampness to accumulate. Now,
personally, I find my heels are dry and smooth and hard, like--like a
china nest-egg, don't you know; but _damp heels_, it doesn't sound
right, and it must feel very uncomfortable. I don't wonder you kick!"

And another broke in with: "I say, old fellow, that was my India ink you
spoiled then. But never mind, I suppose your heels trouble you," then
asked earnestly, as the victim hastily patted a grey beard into place,
"Is that good gum you have there? Will it hold that beard securely?"

"Will it hold? It's the strongest gum ever made, it can hold a horse. I
have hard work to get it to dissolve nights with pure alcohol." This
while the guilty one was writhing with that malicious joy known in
its fulness to the practical joker alone.

[Illustration: _Clara Morris in "The Sphinx"_]

The victim, rushing from the room, reached the stage at the very moment
his cue was spoken, and made his entrance so short of breath he could
scarcely speak. The act was very long, the gum in his shoes dried
nicely, the curtain fell. He went below to his room to dress for the
street. He tried to remove and lay aside his patent leathers. Alas,
alas! he laid aside instead his manners, his temper, his self-restraint,
his self-respect. The gum proved itself worthy of his praise; it stuck,
it held. The shoes were willing to come off on one condition only,--that
they brought both sock and skin with them.