The
Lady who read was shy a Spoon and afraid to ask for it. The Men were
all google-eyed, and the Help was running into Chairs and dropping
important parts of the Menu.
Presently the Landlady came in and explained. She said that Mrs.
Williams was in the City to shop for a couple of Days, and her Husband
would be up on the Night Train. Whereupon five men fell under the
Table.
* * * * *
MORAL: Nothing ever happens at a Boarding House.
* * * * *
_THE MAN WHO HAD A TRUE FRIEND TO STEER HIM ALONG_
Once there was a well-meaning Soul who was handicapped by a true and
lasting Friendship.
Sometimes he suspected that if he could be left to himself he would
struggle along from one Saturday Night to another and keep out of the
Way of the Cars and possibly extract some Joy from this Life in his
own Simple Rube Fashion.
But every time he turned around, Friend was right there to tell him
what to do.
Friend was somewhat of a Shell-Fish in the regulation of his own
Private Affairs, but he knew just how to manage for some one else.
So he used to tell the Victim where to have his clothes made, and he
would pick out his Shirt Patterns for him and tell him how often he
needed a Drink, and in other ways relieve him of all Responsibilities.
[Illustration: _The True Friend._]
If the poor Mark wanted to remain in his Room and read something
by William Dean Howells, the Friend would compel him to put on his
Low-Front and go out to a War-Dance and meet a Bunch of Kioodles who
wore No.
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