•'You neffer do it," said Captain Valvick, looking gloomily at Uncle Jules. "Ay seen lots of drunks in my time, and (til you—"
"I will do it!" cried Peggy. "Mrs. Perrigord, please, please stop crying and pour out a glass of water. Water, somebody! I got him round once in Nashville when he was nearly as bad as this. Now! Now, if somebody will—"
"Oh, the poah deah!" cried Mrs. Perrigord, going over to stroke his forehead. Immediately, with a deep snore which rose to crescendo in a reverberating whistle, Uncle Jules slid off the couch on the other side.
"lip!" wailed Peggy. "Hold him — lift him up, Captain! Hold his head. That's it. Now tickle him. Yes, tickle him; you know." She dropped a lump of baking-soda into a glass of water and advanced warily through an aroma of gin that was drowning the odour of grease-paint. "Hold Him now. Oh, where is Abdul? Abdul knows how to do (Hi*! Now, hold him and tickle him a little… "
" G la- g oo!" snorted Uncle Jules, leaping like a captured
An expression of mild annoyance had crossed his face.
face
dolphin.
"Viens, mon oncle!" whispered Peggy soothingly. Her steps were a little unsteady, her eyes smearily bright; but lip whs determined. "Ah, mon pauvre enfant! Mon pauvre ftfflt fiosse! Viens, alors…
The pauvre enfant seemed vaguely to catch the drift of fill* lie sat up suddenly with his eyes closed; his fist shot Mil with unerring aim, caught the glass full and true, and muled it with a crash against the opposite bulkhead. Then Uncle Jules slid down and serenely went on snoring. "Haah, whee!" breathed Uncle Jules.