e of the
dizziest that ever stood up to make a background for the pony ballet.
And she has on a costume--well, it goes with the hat, which it puttin'
it strong.

If the sight of her and the circus coloured car wa'n't enough to stun
the neighbours and send the Bradys under the bed, they had only to wait
till the Swede valet and the footman began luggin' up the sheaf of
two-dollar roses and the basket of champagne.

I was watchin' old Larry to see how he was takin' it. First he looks
Shrimp up and down, from the brown hat to the yellow shoes, and then he
gazes at Mrs. Shrimp. Then his stiff lower jaw begins saggin' down,
and his knobby old fingers unloosens from the grip they'd got into at
first sight of 'Loyshy. It's plain that he was some in doubt about
that chuckin' out programme he'd had all framed up. What Larry had
been expectin' should the boy turn up at all, was something that looked
like it had been picked out of the bread line. And here was a specimen
of free spender that had "Keep the change!" pasted all over him. Then,
before he has it half figured out, they're lined up in front of each
other. But old Larry ain't one to do the sidestep.

"Aloysius," says he, scowlin' down at him, "where do ye be afther
gettin' ut?"

"Out of the ponies, old stuff. Where else?" says Shrimp.

"Bettin'?" says Larry.

"Bettin' nothin'!" says Shrimp. "Mud ridin'."

"Allow me," says Pinckney, pushin' in, "to introduce to you all, ladies
and gentlemen, Mr. Shrimp Dillon, one of the best paid jockeys in
America."

"And what might they be payin' the likes of him for bein' a jockey?"
says old Larry.

"Why," says Pinckney, "it was something like twenty thousand this
season, wasn't it, Shrimp?"

"Countin' bonuses and all," says Shrimp, "it was nearer thirty-two."

"Thirty-two thou----" But Larry's mouth is open so wide he can't get
the rest out. He just catches his breath, and then, "'Loyshy, me lad,
give us your hand on it."

"Ahem!" says Father Kelley, pickin' up his hat, "this seems to be a
case where the prodigal has returned--and brought his veal with him."

"That's a thrue word," says Larry. "'Tis a proud day for the Dillons."

Did they put it over the Bradys? Well, say! All the Bradys has to do
now, to remember who the Dillons are, is to look across the way and see
the two geranium plants growin' out of solid silver pots. Course, they
wa'n't meant for flower pots. They're champagne coolers; but Moth