Like mules. I've just thought of something else you can do for me
while we're waiting for her to make up her mind to forgive you. Come
along over here and close this window you left open."

Mr. Smilk in closing the window, looked searchingly up and down the
fire escape, peered intently into the street below, sighed
profoundly and muttered something that Mr. Yollop did not hear.

"I've got a fur coat hanging in that closet over there, Cassius. We
will get it out."

Carefully following Mr. Yollop's directions, the obliging rascal
produced the coat and laid it upon the table in the center of the
room.

"Turn your back," commanded the owner of the coat, "and hold up your
hands." Then, after he had slipped into the coat: "Now if I only had
my slippers--but never mind. We won't bother about 'em. They're in
my bed room, and probably lost under the bed. They always are, even
when I take 'em off out in the middle of the room. Ah! Nothing like
a fur coat, Cassius. Do you know what cockles are?"

"No, I don't."

"Well, never mind. Now, let's try Central again. Please remember
that no matter how distant she is, she still expects you to look
upon her as a lady. No lady likes to be sworn at at two o'clock in
the morning. Speak gently to her. Call her Madamoiselle. That always
gets them. Makes 'em think if they keep their ears open they'll hear
something spicy."