crib, and I've put cots in the hay loft for the cook and the society
editress of the Chattanooga _Opera Glass_. You see how names draw,
gents.'

"'Well,' says I, 'how is it that you seem to be biting your thumbs at
good luck? You didn't use to be that way.'

"'I ain't through,' says Smoke-'em-out. 'Yesterday was the day for
the advent of the auspicious personages. I goes down to the depot to
welcome 'em. Two apparently animate substances gets off the train,
both carrying bags full of croquet mallets and these magic lanterns
with pushbuttons.

"I compares these integers with the original signatures to the letters
--and, well, gents, I reckon the mistake was due to my poor eyesight.
Instead of being the Lieutenant, the daisy chain and wild verbena
explorer was none other than Levi T. Peevy, a soda water clerk from
Asheville. And the Duke of Marlborough turned out to be Theo. Drake of
Murfreesborough, a bookkeeper in a grocery. What did I do? I kicked
'em both back on the train and watched 'em depart for the lowlands,
the low.


[Illustration: Instead of the Lieut. and the Duke.]


"'Now you see the fix I'm in, gents,' goes on Smoke-'em-out Smithers.
'I told the ladies that the notorious visitors had been detained on
the road by some unavoidable circumstances that made a noise like an
ice jam and an heiress, but they would arrive a day or two later. When