Isn't that love lump all the money, though? It makes a well-developed case of indigestion look like a sunny summer day. When you come to figure it all over, there's nothing to that jealousy thing. I used to be Billy Brighteyes, and sneak out to my regular's home, thinking that perhaps I would catch some one else there. What do I do now?
Why, I telephone that I will be out in thirty minutes. What you don't know won't hurt you.
Jim, what has ever become of that girl you were so crazy about a couple of years ago? I guess maybe she didn't put a dent into your heart that a person could drive a four-in-hand into and never touch the sides, a regular Hoosac Tunnel. Then when she had you all ribbed up and done to a turn, she said, "I love Mr. Hawkins and Mr. Hawkins loves me. Good by, Jim; take care of yourself."You couldn't have gotten a better jolt on the B. & 0. You will pardon my suppressed merriment, but that girl certainly made you look like a trailer. Never mind, Jim, old pal, we have all had a crimp put into us at one time or another, and if you work hard and observe good hours you'll get over it in four or five years. It's nothing at all.
I have often thought I would land a girl with coin, blow business, and sit around for a while. It would be great to have your own hearthstone with a couple of registered St. Bernard's lying around, and here and there a golden-haired darling romping and playing with a bottle of paregoric. But somehow or other I always fall down. Now, take that Katherine Clark, who has been visiting the Hemingways for the past month. When she first came I said to myself, "Billy, my boy, here's your chance; break in and cop out an heiress." So I sicked myself on to her. Well, you know I'm not a piker. I went after her right. Eats, drinks, shows, and all the expensive things. I touched Johnny Black's brother-in-law for fifty, and gave an informal luncheon that was a pippin. Iwore 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 ****** some remark about his joining the Tell Club, and altogether everything was a big success. The check came to $44.60, and Iflashed 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 course you will say I'm stung again, and that some one should lead me out to the end of the Chicago Crib and push me into the lake, and all that sort of rot; but hang it all, Jim, if I could get that girl I would take her if she didn't have a cent. I guess I'll light my p1pe.
Yours as ever, Billy.
P. S.--"Good by, Jim; take care of yourself."More Horse Sense Have you ever sat on the edge of the bed in the morning with your elbows on your knees, your head buried in your hands, and wondered if there was anything you overlooked the night before that would have made you feel worse? Among the more polite, this feeling is spoken of as the realization of indiscretion in diet;but we plain people call it old Colonel R. E. Morse. There are lots of things that will give you a Colonel, but a R--R--S-- is the only thing that will make you feel like a person with a future instead of a person with a past. You must cleanse your liver, and that's all there is to it. Here's the proposition: Say there were two glasses of aperient water standing on a table. One was muddy-looking, bad-tasting, warm, and flat, and wouldn't touch your liver. The other was clear, pleasant-tasting, cold, and sparkling, and acted instantly upon your liver. Which would you take? Inasmuch as our circulation is confined entirely to the most intelligent, all we ask is, that you give this proposition one moment of your thought. The immense sale of R--R--S-- proves beyond a doubt that the American people are thoroughly disgusted with vile-tasting foreign bitter waters, and were merely awaiting the advent of something new and sparkling, like R--R--.
