k him, "which one of them
Lizzie Mauds are you playin' as favorite these days, Ernie?"

And Ernie, he'll color up like a fire hydrant and protest: "Now, say,
Torchy! You know very well I've never spoken to one of them."

"Yes, you tell it well," I'll say, "but I'm onto you, old sport."

I don't know how long I've been shooting stuff like that at Ernie, and
it always gets him going. I have a hunch, though, that he kind of likes
it. These skirt-shy boys usually do. And as a matter of fact I expect
the only female he ever looked square in the eye is that old maid sister
of his that he lives with somewhere over in Jersey.

So this night when we were doing overtime together at the office and it
was a case of going out for dinner I'd planned to slip a little
something on Ernie by towin' him to a joint where the lights were
bright and they were apt to have silver buckets on the floor. I was
hoping he might see some perfect lady light up a cigarette, or maybe
give him a cut-up glance over the top of her fizz goblet. It would be
cheerin' to watch Ernie tryin' to let on he didn't notice.

He'd already called Sister on the long distance telephone and told her
not to wait up for him, explainin' just what it was we was workin' on
and how we might not be through until quite late. And Sister had advised
him to be sure to wear his silk muffler and not to sleep past his
station if he had to take the 11:48 out.

"Gosh, Ernie!" says I. "If you 're that way now what'll you be when
you're married?"

"But I hadn't thought of getting married," says he. "Really!"

"Yes," says I, "and you silent, thoughtless boys are the very ones who
jump into matrimony unexpected. Some evenin' you'll meet just the right
babidoll and the next thing we know you'll be sendin' us at home cards.
You act innocent enough in public, but I'll bet you're a bear when it
comes to workin' up to a quick clinch behind the palms."

Ernie almost gasps with horror at the thought.

"Oh, I wouldn't put it past you," says I. "I expect, though, you'd like
to have me class you among the great unkissed?"

"As a matter of fact," says Ernie solemn, "I have never--Well, not
since I was a mere boy, at least. It--it's just happened so."

"And you past thirty!" says I. "What a long spell to be out of luck!"

So I suggests that we work through until about 7:45 and then hit the
Regal roof for a $2 feed and a view of some of this fancy skatin'
they're pullin' off there. But tha