n
we has for Miss Gertrude and her mother when they show up.

"Anything particular the matter?" whispers Pinckney to me, as he hands
the guests out of the carriage.

"Nothin' much," says I. "Me and Snivens and the twins is left. The
others have gone or are goin'."

"What is the matter?" says Miss Gertie.

"Everything," says Pinckney. "I've made a flat failure. Shorty, you
bring in the twins and we'll end this thing right now."

Well, I rounds up Jack and Jill, and after they've hugged Miss Gertie
until her travelin' dress is fixed for a week at the cleaners',
Pinckney leads us all into the front room. The urns was there on the
mantel; but the kids don't even give 'em a look.

"Come on, you young rascals!" says he, as desperate as if he was
pleadin' guilty to blowin' up a safe. "Tell Miss Gertrude about
Grandfather and Aunt Sabina."

"Oh," says Jack, "they're out in the flower bed."

"We fed 'em to the rose bushes," says Jill.

"We didn't like to lose 'em," says Jack; "but Pat needed the ashes."

"It's straight goods," says I; "I was there."

And say, when Miss Gertrude hears the whole yarn about the urns, and
the trouble they've made Pinckney, she stops laughin' and holds out one
hand to him over Jill's shoulder.

"You poor boy!" says she. "Didn't you ever read Omar's--

"I sometimes think that never blows so red
The rose, as where some buried Caesar bled'?"

Say, who was this duck Omar? And what's that got to do with
fertilisin' flower beds with the pulverised relations of your
landladies? I give it up. All I know is that Pinckney's had them jars
refilled with A-1 wood ashes, that Aunt Mary managed to 'phone up a new
set of help before mornin', and that when I left Pinckney and Miss
Gertie and the twins was' strollin' about, holdin' hands and lookin' to
be havin' the time of their lives.

Domestic? Say, a clear Havana Punko, made in Connecticut, ain't in it
with him.

IX

A LINE ON PEACOCK ALLEY

What's the use of travelin', when there's more fun stayin' home?
Scenery? Say, the scenery that suits me best is the kind they keep lit
up all night. There's a lot of it between 14th-st. and the park.
Folks? Why, you stand on the corner of 42d and Broadway long enough
and you won't miss seein' many of 'em. They most all get here sooner
or later.

Now, look at what happens last evenin'. I was just leanin' up against
the street door, real comfortable and satisfied after a goo