in you have
in the world!"

"One is quite enough," says he.

That gives her another jolt, and she starts to lay out Mr. Robert good,
for givin' the frosty paw to a relation that had come so far to see him.
"I shall stay right here," says she, "until that poor, neglected young
man returns, and then I shall try to make up for your heartless
treatment."

Aunt Julie didn't have a long wait. She hadn't more'n got herself
settled, when the elevator stops at our floor and there breaks loose all
kinds of a riot in the hall. There was a great jabberin' and foot
scufflin', and I could hear Dennis, that juggles the lever, forkin' out
the assault 'n' batt'ry language in a brogue that sounded like rippin' a
sheet.

"What's up now?" says Mr. Robert, pokin' his head out.

"Two to one that's Clifford!" says I.

There wa'n't any time to get a bet down, though; for just then the door
slams open and we gets a view of things. Oh, it was Cliffy, all right!
He was comin' in backwards, tryin' to wave off the gang that was
follerin' him.

"Go away!" says he, pushin' at the nearest of 'em. "Please go away!"

"Ah, it's you should be goin' away, ye shark-faced baboon, ye!" says
Dennis, hoppin' up and down in the door of the car. "You an' yer Polack
friends may walk down, or jump out the winder; but divvle a ride do yez
get in this illyvator again. Do ye mind that, now?"

You couldn't blame him; for the bunch wa'n't fit for the ash hoist. They
were Zinskis, about twenty of 'em, countin' women and kids. You didn't
have to look at the tin trunks and roped bundles to know that they'd
just finished ten days in the steerage. You could tell that by the
bouquet. They didn't carry their perfume with 'em. It went on ahead, and
they follered, backin' Cliffy clear in until he fetched up against the
gate, and then jammin' in around him close. Chee! but they was a punky
lot! They had jack lantern faces and garlic breaths, and they looked to
know about as much as so many cigar store Injuns.

"Did you have your pick, Cliffy," says I, "or was this a job lot you got
cheap?"

"Clifford," says Mr. Robert, "what in thunder is the meaning of this
performance of yours?"

But Clifford just keeps on tryin' to work his elbows clear and looks
dazed. "I don't know," says Cliffy, "truly I don't, Cousin Robert.
They've been following me for an hour, and I've had an awful time."

"Maybe you've been makin' a noise like a wienerwurst," says I.

About that time