"The nicest party ever!" they chorused at parting. "So novel and _naive_--
so quite entirely out of the ordinary."

As the last pied guest disappeared she turned wearily to her Petticoat.

"I tell you, Warb," he said, "you are sure one corker! You put 'em to
sleep all right! Now you've shown 'em how, you bet they won't go on having
their stupid highbrow intellectural old gatherings. Hop along to bed,
little tired Lollipop."

His long lithe arms gathered her forcefully to him, and her irritation at
his strength was lost in her admiration of his grace and skill in
imparting affection.

* * * * *

From _The Butterfly Centerpiece_:

The Mack Sennett party at the home of Dr. Bill Petticoat was a hundred per
cent success. Little Lady Petticoat is nobody's fool. She knows that a
lucky punch is her only chance. A short, swift hook, straight from the
shoulder. The pretty Warble is a perpetual promise of joy, yet she shows
symptoms of curvature of the soul--and it is, so far, a toss-up whether
she will have her passport _vised_ or be given the gate.

* * * * *

The week after, the Leathershams gave a party. The gilt-chaired audience
listened to Sable Caviaro the new Russian violinist and Slubber D.