And put away their hats,

One ticket gave a lady,

Admittance and her grub,

Invited by the committee,

Of the Casey Social Club.

Popular Song.

THE entrance to the hall was a-glitter with gas lights; freshly barbered young men in high collars and sack coats stood about the doorway, smoking cigarettes and spitting on the steps. A wagon was unloading kegs of beer at a side door; people flocked into the smoky entry; now and then a hired hack would pull up at the curb and a member of the club would hand his sweetheart out and up the steps. Four policemen, engaged at three dollars a head to keep order, stood on the sidewalk counting the ingoing kegs.

“Forty quarters, all told,” said a pock-marked officer, lifting his huge shoulders.

“Whew! The club’ll have a neat wad to put away if they sell all that! An’ just look at the people goin’ in!”

“Say, there’s one fight in every two kegs o’ beer,” said a third policeman. “That makes twenty turns before the janitor turns off the lights. We ain’t a-goin’ to have no cinch.”