"No, sir; nothing intoxicating."
"I mean on the sly."
"No, sir: nothing, absolutely nothing."
"Well, Mike Shay tipped me off that it was to be 'wet' on the quiet."
"He made a mistake; this is to be a strictly teetotal club."
"That settles it. What's the good of a club where you can't have no fun? Good night!" and out he went.
A lanky youth with unhealthy rings around his eyes and brown stains on his thumb asked if there were to be boxing lessons and would Mr. Hartigan tell them about the scrap between himself and Mike Shay. Mothers asked if a baby corral would be instituted, to set the mothers free for a few hours each day. A tall, pale young man with a Southern coo, asked "whether Negroes were to be admitted." The Chair dodged by saying: "That will be decided by the vote of the majority."
A male person, with a beard and a tremulous voice, asked what the club's attitude would be toward the Salvation Army. Before the Chair could reply, little Skystein jumped up and shouted: "Mr. Chairman, ve don't vant 'em; dey's all feelin's an' no brains. You don't see no Chews in de Salvation Army—it's too many emotions; de Chews got too much intellects, ve don't vant——"
"I rule you out of order!" shouted the Chair. "Sit down! Now for your question: The club will welcome the Salvationists as individual members. It does not recognize them as a body."
A fat, unsuccessful-looking man, asked if it held out any chance for a job; and a red-headed masculine person of foreign design rose to inquire whether the bathing would be compulsory. A preliminary vote was overwhelmingly in favour of the five-dollar dues, though a small minority thought it should be free; a group of four persons believed they should draw compensation for coming.