open admiration for her with more coolness than Joe exhibited when
Thomas offered to show him something of the town some day or night.

Mr. Thomas was a loquacious little man with a confident air born of an
intense admiration of himself. He was the idol of a number of
servant-girls' hearts, and altogether a decidedly dashing back-area-way
Don Juan.

"I tell you, Miss Kitty," he burst forth, a few minutes after being
introduced, "they ain't no use talkin', N' Yawk 'll give you a shakin'
up 'at you won't soon forget. It 's the only town on the face of the
earth. You kin bet your life they ain't no flies on N' Yawk. We git the
best shows here, we git the best concerts--say, now, what 's the use o'
my callin' it all out?--we simply git the best of everything."

"Great place," said Joe wisely, in what he thought was going to be quite
a man-of-the-world manner. But he burned with shame the next minute
because his voice sounded so weak and youthful. Then too the oracle only
said "Yes" to him, and went on expatiating to Kitty on the glories of
the metropolis.

"D'jever see the statue o' Liberty? Great thing, the statue o' Liberty.
I 'll take you 'round some day. An' Cooney Island--oh, my, now that 's
the place; and talk about fun! That 's the place for me."

"La, Thomas," Mrs. Jones put in, "how you do run on! Why, the strangers
'll think they 'll be talked to death before they have time to breathe."

"Oh, I guess the folks understan' me. I 'm one o' them kin' o' men 'at
believe in whooping things up right from the beginning. I 'm never