She flew past Petticoat, only pausing to shout, "Like it all, my tramp?
Yes, it _is_ an expensive party."

Then she led her followers a mad race. Sliding down banisters, squeezing
into dumb waiters; crawling under beds and out the other side; jumping in
and out again of bathtubs full of perfumed water. Out of windows, in at
scuttles. Through booby-traps of half-open doors, on the lintel of which
were perched pans full of live crabs or little boxes of mice.

On rushed the horde, Mrs. Givens panting from over exertion, Goldie
Leathersham limping because of a crab hanging to his great toe.

On they went, and at last, as Warble drew up at the lake in the hall, she
was closely followed by Trymie Icanspoon, and true to her promise she
rewarded him by pushing him into the lake. It was but a shallow pool, he
couldn't drown, but the fun of it was, Warble had caused the water to be
drained off and the tank filled with mayonnaise.

Wherefore Trymie's soft plop into the oily depths was of a ludicrous
nature.

Then the guests were allowed to resume their own clothes and supper was
announced.

Conversation turned to art matters, and Leathersham who was a collector of
many various rarities asked Petticoat how his new collection was
progressing. The collection was one of early American Pieplates.

"Doing well," Big Bill answered. "I have just achieved a yellow earthen