[Illustration: _The Grouch._]
It came about that one Year the Married Man got Gay and swam out
to where it was over his Head. In his keen Anxiety to enlarge his
Business he took on about three Tons of Liabilities. Ninety days make
but a fleeting Span when Notes are falling due. One day the Married
Man found himself hanging on the edge of the Gully, with a Choice
of jumping to the Rocks below or waiting to be Scalped. It was not
a dignified thing to do, but he had to yell for Assistance and yell
plenty.
He hot-footed to the Gusher, friend of his Youth and God-Father to
his Children. He explained that his Heels were beating a Tattoo on
the Ragged Edge of Insolvency, and unless he could raise the Wind,
it meant a Receiver over at the Works, his Credit evaporated and the
Pianola to the Hock-Shop.
The Gusher listened with Tears in his Eyes. In a Voice all choked with
Sobs he tendered his Sympathy and his Sincere Hope that all would
yet be Well. He told him it grieved him to see a Friend go under
the Rollers. It tore his Heart. It did for sure. In fact it had so
upset him that he would have to go out into the Air. So he did an
Olga Nethersole Exit with one Hand over his streaming Eyes, and the
life-long Friend sat there with Salt Water spattered all over him and
nothing in his Hand.
As soon as he had dried his Clothes he went to the Grouch and candidly
owned up that he was on the Waiting List for the Poor House unless he
could borrow enough to tide him over.
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