“It all comes from what Cora said yesterday about the refining influence of feminine society,” said Walter. “I feel the need of that. In fact, I have a consuming desire to become refined. And I can’t be, as long as I associate with these two low-brows. So you’d better let me ride in your car.”
“And leave us in our native coarseness?” queried Paul. “Not on your life, old man! I need refinement just as much as you do.”
“Peace, brethren,” interposed Jack. “We’ll do this thing on the level. My claims to coarseness are just as strong as either of yours, but do you see me engaging in unseemly brawls? Nay and again nay. We’ll pull straws for it and may the coarsest man win.”
“I don’t know that we want any of you,” said Cora. “We don’t take incurable cases.”
“Don’t be too harsh, Cora,” said Belle. “You know they say there’s a spark of good in the very lowest.”
“While the lamp holds out to burn
The vilest sinner may return,”
hummed Bess.
There were no straws at hand, but some matches served as well, and Walter proved to be the lucky one. Belle agreed to go to Jack’s car, and Walter took her place alongside of Bess.
“Hurrah!” cried Walter, as he availed himself of his good fortune. “I’m saved. I’m doomed to refinement.”