Uncle Brewster Escaped and found himself at a Bar. He decided that he would take a Drink, because he wouldn't be Home until next Day and by that time it would be off his Breath.
NON-COMBUSTIBLE
So he laid his Bosom against the Brass Railing and said to the Man in White, "You might as well draw me a Glass of Beer."
"We've got it in Bottles," said the Barkeep, regarding Uncle Brewster without a sign of Enthusiasm.
"What do you git for a Bottle?" asked Uncle Brewster.
"Twenty Cents," was the Reply of the Liquor Clerk.
"Keep it," said Uncle Brewster.
Perceiving that the Race-Track was in the hands of Gougers, Uncle Brewster walked back to the Hotel. By that Time his New Shoes had Crippled him, and he decided to take the Afternoon Train for home instead of Waiting Over.
That Evening he was back at his own Fireside, with the Bunged-Up Feet resting in Carpet Slippers. As he sat and read the Poultry Magazine, Aunt Mehely looked at him sidewise, and full of Suspicion said, "I s'pose you just Played Hob there in the City."