"Oh, heavings! No! For if we did his third wife would hear about it and then she would knock me to my husband, for you know they are engaged, so if she hears anything about me you can bet she plays it up strong."
"Well, can't you think of some one else?"
"No, I don't know a soul that is any good but us four. My goodness, I've got to roll my hoop and do a shopping number, get my hair gargled—I slept in it last night—and see a sick friend.
"Fate sure does sic tribulations on me at every turn of the road. This business of hunting employment has got to be so balmy that I snort and jump sideways every time anybody says 'job.'
"Now that the first of the year has kicked in, I thought everything would be as merry as a marriage bell, but as yet there hasn't been a ripple on the water. The only thing that acts as a star of hope to my miserable existence is a date with a Summer stock that opens the first of June, and there is a heap of smoke around that. I wish some one would tip me off to some way of earning an honest living without having to resort to a sock full of sand or a strong arm. But why be downhearted? I haven't drunk up all my Christmas presents yet. As a last hope I can load upon them and get some kind ambulance to drag me up to the dippy department of some nice hospital. Honest, I am getting so thin that before long I won't be able to understudy a drop of water in Mr. Hawk's Hippodrome.
"A nice gentleman presented himself to me on Broadway the other evening and, after passing the compliments of the season, invited me out to inhale a young table d'hote. The way I sprang to his side made a leap for life seem like sinful idleness. And where do you think he took me? I ask as a friend, Where do you think he took me? To one of those joints where you get everything from soup to nuts, including a scuttle full of red ink for thirty-five scudi. I was going to balk and rear in the harness when he started to lead me up the steps of the foundry, but as I always maintained discretion is the better part of valor, I'm two-bits ahead anyway you play it. So I climb into the nosebag without a peep. Yet—would you believe it?—when that wop came to cash in he shook the mothballs out of a roll of bills that looked like nine miles' worth of hall carpet. I had been acting very reserved heretofore, but when he made this flash he commenced to look like a very dear friend of mine who had been very kind to me in moments of adversity. I apprised him of the fact, and the dog had the temerity to pin his pocket shut with a safety pin right before my eyes. I come to find out later that he was a press agent. Ain't it scandalous the way the Friars wine and dine the dramatists every few weeks? I tried to agitate a bunch for the chorus girls to give a dinner to Ben Teal or William Seymour, but while they were all willing to be in on the big eat the way they ducked the financial responsibilities would have made you think it was a half-salary clause.
"The other day I put my ear to the ground and then cavorted madly around to Mr. Savage's office to see if there was anything doing in the 'Merry Widow' line. The handsome gentleman on the other side of the desk allowed a ripple of merriment to float over his features and then spake as follows: 'All we got to do is to toll the bell in the old church tower and nine companies will answer like the fire department.' You know I could have gone with the Paris 'Prince of Pilson' company, but those French gentlemen are so emotional. One tried to bite my ear in Jack's the other night.
"Did I tell you about Mamie de Vere becoming a bride again? She believes in marrying at leisure and divorcing in haste. The justice of the peace that always ties her nuptial knot told her that if she bought a ticket she could save 50 cents per wedding and he would hand it to the happy bridegroom as her dowry. Well, anyway they got maried after the show, so that she wouldn't loose her job. I was maid of honor. Honest I was. Don't it sound funny? And I carried her bouquet as the bridal party marched up the hall to the office of the justice of the peace. Just as he was about to pronounce the last sad rites a hurdy-gurdy started playing 'Don't Get Married Any More, Ma,' with variations. Well, it made Mamie so nervous. You know she always was a hysterical creature. It made her so nervous that she had to have Wilbur—that's her husband—go out and put a bug on the Ginny before she would allow the flag to drop. Then we went out and had our wedding breakfast. There were six or eight in the crowd, I don't rightly remember which, for sometimes there would be only a few and then again it would be a turbid throng.
"A couple of whisky sales gentlemen joined our little gathering and proposed a race. You know I do so love athletic sports. I don't mean prize fighters or ball players, but feats of strength. The whisky gentlemen had a little the best start, for they had been running trial heats. The way we staged that drinking number was a crime. How we ended up I care not, neither do I spin. I can merely state that Mamie and I slid for home in a sea-going taxicab, leaving Wilbur saying things to the head waiter that no lady would listen to.
"Oh, say, are you here with any extra junk? No, this ain't no touch. But if you have got a reckless bundle I know how you can double it in a few weeks. A gentleman friend of mine was captain of a fake wire-tapping game until he got put out of business by the hard times and the lack of suckers—synonymous. He is selling stock of a proposition that has anything from Goldfield chased back to the desert. This is the scheme: Listerine. He's going to train carrier pigeons to rush the growler. The Chorus Girls' Union have already elected him an honorary vice-president. You see, he gets these birds and trains them to carry the pail in their teeth and smell out the nearest saloon, even a blind tiger—no matter where they are. Then he rents the birds out by the dozen to the theatrical organizations—special rates to musical comedies—so that all the poor merry-merry has to do if there is no gentleman without is get a bird from the property man, beat it for the furnished room, drop ten cents in the bucket, write a little note to the bartender merely stating: 'Mother has company, so not so much foam, please,' open the window and start the dove of peace on its mission of happiness. You needn't be afraid of the pigeon sneaking up an alley and drinking half of it and then coming back with the stall, 'The boss is on tonight; there ain't no bellhop to tip and all the bird wants is three or four grains of corn, mother, and its just as happy and care free as if you opened wine. Won't that be a boon to humanity, though? If he don't get a Carnegie medal things are run wrong. Another stunt he is going to pull off is canned cheese sandwiches. Well, I got to toddle along. The Ladies' Auxiliary to the Anvil Chorus is going to hold a meeting in Alla Sweenie's apartments. Was you ever one of them? Well, when those dames get on the job and are grouped it makes Elinor Glyn's opinion of the Pilgrim Mothers seem like words of praise. So long."