excited he couldn't get back at all. He just sputtered and spit
and made motions with his mouth. It was grand and touching and
refined. I cut in and tried to square it, and the lady told me
I was a spangle-eyed big dub. I'll bet that's one of the worst
things a fellow can be. Dick was then told what he was, and he
put it down in a book, after which Alice finished it all up with
a flood of tears. The head waiter came up and said: "Look a here,
Mary, what ails you, anyway? You're getting so lately you turn
them tears on every night. Be a good fellow, and don't make a
lot of gents think we're running a morgue. You've blowed half
your make-up as it is." Mary, alias Alice, gave the head waiter
one withering look, and left the place. We started to move on,
but found it was impossible to bring old K. C. back. We pounded
him and yelled at him for ten minutes, but there wasn't a leaf
stirring, except once, when he came to long enough to remark that
he was sweating like a June bride. We finally took his watch and
all his money but two dollars, and left him like a dog. A fellow
is perfectly safe in New York without any money.

We then mounted our deep-sea-going cab, and told the skipper
we were for the eats. He took us to a big restaurant on upper
Sixth Avenue. We told the waiter to bring us everything that
was good. When the waiter returned with the knives and forks,
he also brought us some Dill pickles. I took a bite at one of
them, and she squirted and hit a fellow at the next table in the
eye. I guess a Dill pickle must smart right pert--however, I won't
bore you with any details. Jim, I can remember that just at the
start of it a waiter happened to be passing with a very large
order on his tray, and for a while the air was literally crowded
with oyster stews, Welsh rarebits, glasses, showers of booze,