ore British than the real articles
ever thought of being. I stayed until they'd looked through the suite
of rooms they're to occupy, and when I left they were being towed out
to the garage to pick out a touring car that suited them. They seemed
already to be bored to death, too."

"Good!" say I. "Now maybe you'll take me over to the beach and let me
get in a quarter's worth of swim."

"Can't you put it off, Shorty?" says she. "I want you to take the next
train into town and do an errand for me. Go to the landlady at this
number, East 15th-st., and tell her to send Mr. Tortoni's trunk by
express."

Well, I did it. It took a ten to make the landlady loosen up on the
wardrobe, too; but considerin' the solid joy I've had, thinkin' about
Skinny and Flossy eatin' charlotte russe for breakfast, and all that, I
guess I'm gettin' a lot for my money. It ain't every day you have a
chance to elevate a vaudeville team to the peerage.

V

PUTTING PINCKNEY ON THE JOB

Well, say, this is where we mark up one on Pinckney. And it's time
too, for he's done the grin act at me so often he was comin' to think I
was gettin' into the Slivers class. You know about Pinckney. He's the
bubble on top of the glass, the snapper on the whip lash, the sunny
spot at the club. He's about as serious as a kitten playin' with a
string, and the cares on his mind weigh 'most as heavy as an extra
rooster feather on a spring bonnet.

That's what comes of havin' a self raisin' income, a small list of
relatives, and a moderate thirst. If anything bobs up that needs to be
worried over--like whether he's got vests enough to last through a
little trip to London and back, or whether he's doubled up on his
dates--why, he just tells his man about it, and then forgets. For a
trouble dodger he's got the little birds in the trees carryin' weight.
Pinckney's liable to show up at the Studio here every day for a week,
and then again I won't get a glimpse of him for a month. It's always
safe to expect him when you see him, and it's a waste of time wonderin'
what he'll be up to next. But one of the things I likes most about
Pinckney is that he ain't livin' yesterday or to-morrow. It's always
this A. M. with him, and the rest of the calendar takes care of itself.

So I wa'n't any surprised, as I was doin' a few laps on the avenue
awhile back, to hear him give me the hail.

"Oh, I say, Shorty!" says he, wavin' his stick.

"Got anything on?"