"Oh, is that it?" and the dudish student's face brightened. On several occasions he had assisted at charity bazaars and the like, and had been in his element among the well-dressed girls and their mothers.
"I think you would just fill the bill, Willie," went on Tom. "You are the best looking fellow here, and of course we know nobody dresses quite as well as you do."
"Oh, yes, of course—it's very kind to mention that, Tom," and William Philander commenced to swell up with pride. "Yes, I do try to keep up with the fashions. But about this entertainment. Who is getting it up and what benefit is it for?"
"Two gentlemen named Carr and Beckwith are getting it up. I don't know about the benefit. You can find out about that from them. But it's a splendid chance to show what you can do. You know all about showing folks to seats, and all that, don't you?"
"Why, yes, of course."
"And you could sing, eh?"
"Well,—ah—I might render that spring song—'Come Where the Flowers are Blooming, Dearest Mary.'"
"Just the cheese—I mean it would be fine, Tubby. They'd all go wild about that song. It's the same one you sang for the Prince of Moneco, isn't it?—or was it the Duke of Twisters?"
"I—er—I never sang for those folks, Tom—I sang it at the Ladies Aid of the Golden Hope Society, and at the Quarterly Gathering of the Poladic Society."
"Yes, yes, I remember now. Well, you are just the one to fill the bill, Bill, yes, you are."