for fifty, and gave an informal luncheon that was a pippin. I
wore my New York Central shirt with the four stripes, and we had
wine with cobwebs. There wasn't a thing served that any one could
pronounce, and Johnny Black got loaded and told us on the quiet
why his sister had left her husband. I insulted Johnny by making
some remark about his joining the Tell Club, and altogether
everything was a big success. The check came to $44.60, and I
flashed Johnny's brother-in-law's fifty. When the waiter brought
the five-forty change I waved him away as though the Standard Oil
Company was the smallest thing I owned. The tip was out that old
man Clark was black with money, and if it's so I know why. He is
tight-ribbed and popcorn. Down in George's Place the other day
I asked the old man what he was going to drink, and he said he
would rather have the money. And say, he gave me a cigar that
looked as though it had some skin trouble, and smelled like some
one was shoeing a horse. However, a fellow doesn't always have
to live with the bride's parents. Jim, this girl was a dream.
Tailor-made, cloak-model form, city-broke, kind, and sound. She
could just naturally beat the works out of a piano; and talk about
your swell valves. Why, the other night she sang "A Sailor's Life's
the Life for Me" so realistically that Johnny Black got seasick.
Well, to make a long story short, this morning I got an invitation
to Katherine Clark's wedding. Jim, did you ever have a fellow
come up behind you and smear you back of the ear when you weren't
looking? Well, that's exactly how that invitation felt. She is
going to marry some lobster out in St. Louis, and I'll bet he is
a pup, and is marrying her for her money. I figured it up on the
back of the invitation, and that lady sent me along for just two
hundred and ten dollars, not counting what I owe Johnny Black's
brother-in-law; and the best I get is a "come to the church." Of