"Cut out the flute for goodness' sake!"
Thereupon the musician arose with fire in his eye.
"Oh! you want to get rid of the flute, do you?" he asked.
"Yes," I drawled carelessly, "I guess we'll get along all right without your assistance."
"Oh! you will, will you! Well, see here, young fellow, if I don't play the flute, you don't sing that song—and there'll be no show to-night. You understand?"
"Who'll prevent?" I demanded.
"Only the flute," was the answer. "I'm the mayor of this place, I am, and I issue the permits. See?"
And I saw.
On my last whirl around the circuit I went by way of the New York Central.