“How’s that? Are not the beds all right?”
“Yes, but we can’t eat our beds. Still, you have two things here that can’t be improved on.”
“What are they?” asked the proprietor, filling out his chest.
“Why, your pepper and salt.”
I played the unexpected on several people aboard a certain ocean steamship, on which my friend Perugini was a passenger. Several of the ladies on board became enamored of “Handsome Jack,” and were very anxious to be introduced to him. They made me their confidant, but Perry was not much of a “masher” and did not care to meet them. At this time, he had an affliction of which I am glad to say he has been cured; he was deaf. One morning I rapped on his stateroom door, and getting no response, I concluded I would run the risk and go in. There he lay, sound asleep. His valet had preceded me, and everything looked as neat and cozy as could be. Perry did not hear me, no matter what noise I made. I went on deck, found four of the young ladies and said:
“Now’s your chance to meet Perugini; just follow me.” They accompanied me and all four looked in at the door, but were afraid to go in.
“Oh, don’t he look lovely,” said one.
“Isn’t he charming—I could just hug him!” said another. I went in; as he did not hear me they took courage and one by one they stole in and got near to Perugini. I slipped toward the door and quickly closed it. The girls were too frightened even to cry out. Then I took hold of Jack and gave him a shake that awakened him. Poor Jack! He was more frightened than the four girls put together. All I got out of him when he and I got on deck was,
“Oh, Marsh! How could you?”