es that learn to
play to the gallery before they can feed themselves, and others I could
name; but clean, grinnin' youngsters, with big eyes that take in
everything, they're good to have around. And, little Hemmy was a star. I
got so int'rested showin' him things in the office that I clean forgot
about Piddie and what he was up to.

"He will be back soon, won't he?" says Mrs. Piddie.

Now if you give me time I can slick up an answer so it'll sound like the
truth and mean something else; but as an offhand liar I'm a frost.
Somehow I always has to swaller somethin' before I can push out a cold
dope. Course, I knew he'd got to be back before long; but I see right
off that this wa'n't any day for a fam'ly reunion. Piddle wa'n't goin'
to be any too sociable by dinner time that night, 'less'n he'd hit up
the bucketshop, which the chances was against. So it was my turn to make
a foxy play.

"He's due here before long, that's a fact," says I, "but there's no
tellin'. You see, there's a big deal on, and Mr. Piddie's gone downtown,
and----"

"Oh!" says Mrs. Piddle, her eyes shinin'. "Then he has some important
business engagement?"

You couldn't help seein' how she had it framed up,--the whole Corrugated
Trust and half of Wall Street holdin' its breath while hubby, J.
Hemmingway Piddie, Esq., worked his giant intellect for the good of the
country.

"That's it," says I. "I couldn't say pos'tive that he'd be as late as
four o'clock; but----"

"Oh! then we'll not wait," says she, "Come, Hemmingway, we must go
home."

"Don't I det my new s'oes?" says Hemmy.

There was a proposition for you! The kid was runnin' true to form and
stickin' to the main line. No side issues for him! Pop might be a big
man, and all that; but his size didn't cut much ice alongside of the
new-shoes prospect. Things was beginnin' to look squally, and Mrs.
Piddie's mouth corners was saggin' some, when I has a thought.

"Hold on," says I. "Maybe he's left a note or something for you."

See what it is to have a little wad stowed away in the southwest corner
of your jeans? I slips through into the main office, gets one of the
typewriter girls to address an envelope to Mrs. Piddie, jams a sawbuck
into it, and comes out smilin'.

"Maybe this'll do as well as Pop himself," says I. "Feels like it had
long green in it," and the last I heard of little Hemmy he was tellin'
the elevator man about the "new s'oes" that was comin' to him.

"It's a fool way