s tra-la-la-work myself," says he,
"and the season I spent on the road as one of the merry villagers with an
Erminie outfit put me wise to a few things. Course, this open air
lecturing has spoiled my pipes for fair; but I've got my ear left,
haven't I? And say, Shorty, the minute I heard that voice of Hermy's I
knew he was the goods."

So what does he do but go back later, after the noon rush was over, and
get Hermy to tell him the story of his life. It wa'n't what you'd call
thrillin'. All there was to it was that Hermy was a double orphan who'd
been brought up in Bridgeport, Conn., by an uncle who was a dancin'
professor. The only thing that saved Hermy from a bench in the brass
works was his knack for poundin' out twosteps and waltzes on the piano;
but at that it seems he was such a soft head he couldn't keep from
watchin' the girls on the floor and striking wrong notes. Then there was
trouble with uncle. Snick didn't get the full details of the row, or what
brought it to a head; but anyway Hermy was fired from the academy and
fin'lly drifted to New York, where he'd been close up against the bread
line ever since.

"And when I found how he just naturally ate up music," says Snick, "and
how he'd had some training in a boy choir, and what a range he had, I
says to him, 'Hermy,' says I, 'you come with me!' First I blows in ten
good hard dollars getting a lawyer to draw up a contract. I thought it
all out by myself; but I wanted the whereases put in right. And it's a
peach. It bound me to find board and lodging and provide clothes and
incidentals for Hermy for the period of one year; and in consideration of
which, and all that, I am to be the manager and sole business
representative of said Hermy for the term of fifteen years from date,
entitled to a fair and equal division of whatsoever profits, salary, or
emoluments which may be received by the party of the second part, payable
to me, my heirs, or assigns forever. And there I am, Shorty. I've done
it! And I'm going to stay with it!"

"What!" says I. "You don't mean to say you've invested a year's board and
lodgin' and expenses in--in that?" and I gazes once more at this hundred
and eighty-pound wrist slapper, who is standin' there in front of the
mirror pattin' down a stray lock.

"That's what I've done," says Snick, shovin' his hands in his pockets and
lookin' at the exhibit like he was proud of it.

"But how the--where in blazes did you get it?" says I.

"Sque