cation."

"Took the girls out to ice-cream sociables and yellow teas every day you
wasn't playing golf or hop-scotch, I suppose."

"I--er--took the young ladies out some--we had glorious times, don't you
know. One moonlight night on Lake George I shall never forget, don't you
know. We were out in a tiny rowboat and the moon was sparkling over the
water, and Geraldine and I----"

"Lucky Geraldine!" sighed Tom. "And thrice lucky Philander Willander--I
mean William Philander!"

"Can't you make up a poem about Geraldine, Songbird?" asked Sam.

"And don't forget to put in the moonlight," came from Dick.

"And the silvery waves, and murmuring breeze," added Fred.

"How much older than you is Geraldine, any how?" quizzed Tom.

"Geraldine is----"

"You haven't got to tell her age if she is over thirty, Billy," said
Larry. "Her age is sacred after that, you know."

"And don't tell us even if she has false teeth," came from Sam.

"And it doesn't make any real difference whether her hair is her own or
not."

"It's hers if it is paid for," said Tom. "You don't suppose a girl that
Billy would fall in love with would wear tresses that were stolen?"

"And to think she may be fat!" sighed Sam. "I hope she doesn't weigh
over two hundred, Willy."

"Oh dear me!" cried the dude, in desperation. "I want you to
remember----"

"That she is yours and yours only," finished Tom. "Yes, nobody shall
walk in your corn patch, Bill--not over my dead body. But tell
us--secretly if you must--does she wear a number eight shoe or a
twelve?"

"If you don't stop your fooling----" gasped the dude.

"He is going to keep his dreadful secrets to himself," cried Tom,
mournfully. "Alack! and too bad! But never mind, we'll all come to the
wedding, Tubblets, and bring lemons if you say so?"

"Who said I was going to get married?"

"Is it to be a church affair or just a little private home gathering?"
went on Tom, seriously. "If it's to be in a church, and you want us all
for rushers--I mean ushers, why----"

"We'll all be on the job," finished Dick. "Wouldn't miss the chance for
a farm with a blind mule thrown in."

"Vots der madder mid me peing a flower girl?" asked Hans, grinning
broadly.

"No, Hansy, you'll have to carry Billy's coat-tails for him," said Fred.
"The latest style from London, don't you know, is to have them trailing
on behind like----"

"Oh, stop! stop!" screamed William Philander, putting his hands to his
ears. "Yo