"She's me grandmother, sure," said Gallagher.
In Central Park I saw a policeman wheeling a baby carriage, with the little cherub sound asleep inside.
Possibly the nurse had eloped with another copper, and this chap was taking the abandoned infant to the station that it might be claimed.
"Why are you arresting a little child like that?" I asked the officer.
"Kidnaping," he said, with a grin, pointing to the slumbering baby.
Don't look round but let me whisper. There's an ancient couple at the back of the hall enjoying a basket-lunch. That's what I call combining pleasure with lunch. Now at the place where I dine we do things differently. There we combine business with lunch. The legend over the portals of the restaurant reads:
"Business Luncheons."