If he happened in toward the head of
the Procession, Mr. Piker would have to send for a Furniture Van. If
he came First, it would be a case of Hoboken for every Book inside of
the Fence.
After it was all over and Mr. Percy M. Piker was riding homeward
with his Head out of a Trolley Window, he recalled dimly that a large
number of long-legged Ponies came out on the Track. One of them was
the color of an Old Glove and was doing a Two-Step. There was about
twenty minutes of Fussing around at the Bend in the Track and then
they all kited away like a flight of Swallows and there was one Horse
in front and Mr. Piker had a Convulsion and frothed at the mouth.
Presently the Tonic seemed to die away and something Blew and Rinkaboo
fell down and stepped on his Lip. He came in about the time they were
blowing the Horn for the next Race.
And now Mr. Piker can take Callers up to his Room and tell them how he
stood to win $1,340.
* * * * *
MORAL: Even the Best cannot pick them every Whirl out of the Box.
* * * * *
_THE HIGH ART THAT WAS A LITTLE TOO HIGH FOR THE VULGARIAN WHO PAID
THE BILLS_
Once there was a Husband who was stuck on Plain Living and Home
Comforts. He would walk around an Angel Cake any old Time to get
action on some Farm Sausage. He was not very strong for Romaine
Salad or any Speckled Cheese left over from Year before last, but he
did a very neat vanishing Act with a Sirloin Steak and he had the
Coffee come right along in a large Cup.
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