"But why not?"
"Because," he replied, "I am afraid you would try to push me off the roof to prevent my drawing the street fair."
I do not remember that the secretary denied having harbored such a plan. At all events, he countermanded the remainder of the luncheon order and departed with us.
At the entrance of an office building he made one final desperate appeal: "Just come up to the top floor and see the view!"
But we stood firm, and he continued with us on our way.
The fair was strung along both sides of a wide, cobbled street. It was really a very jolly fair, with the usual lot of barkers and the usual gaping crowd, plus many negroes, who stood fascinated before the highly colored canvas signs outside the tents, with their bizarre pictures of wild animals, snake charmers, "Nemo, the Malay Prince," and "The Cigarette Fiend," pictured as a ghastly emaciated object with a blue complexion, and billed as "Endorsed by the Anti-Cigarette League of America." I wished to inquire why an anti-cigarette league should indorse a cigarette fiend, but lack of time compelled us to press on, leaving the apparent paradox unsolved.
It was a very jolly fair, with the usual lot of barkers and the usual gaping crowd
As we progressed between the tents and the booths with their catchpenny "wheels of fortune," and ring-tossing enticements, the secretary maintained a protesting silence.