strange with anybody. I 'm a N' Yawker, I tell you, from the word go. I
say, Mis' Jones, let 's have some beer, an' we 'll have some music purty
soon. There 's a fellah in the house 'at plays 'Rag-time' out o' sight."

Mr. Thomas took the pail and went to the corner. As he left the room,
Mrs. Jones slapped her knee and laughed until her bust shook like jelly.

"Mr. Thomas is a case, sho'," she said; "but he likes you all, an' I 'm
mighty glad of it, fu' he 's mighty curious about the house when he
don't like the roomers."

Joe felt distinctly flattered, for he found their new acquaintance
charming. His mother was still a little doubtful, and Kitty was sure she
found the young man "fresh."

He came in pretty soon with his beer, and a half-dozen crabs in a bag.

"Thought I 'd bring home something to chew. I always like to eat
something with my beer."

Mrs. Jones brought in the glasses, and the young man filled one and
turned to Kitty.

"No, thanks," she said with a surprised look.

"What, don't you drink beer? Oh, come now, you 'll get out o' that."

"Kitty don't drink no beer," broke in her mother with mild resentment.
"I drinks it sometimes, but she don't. I reckon maybe de chillen better
go to bed."