Jimmie's allrite agin; he was only stunned, and he got out of bed in time to get down to the telegraf offis. I feel orful proud of my chum now. I never know'd how much he was valewd before. You see now, Mr. Diry, wot a boy makes of hisself when he 'sociates with a risin' yung jurnerlist, like yours trooly, Georgie.
CHAPTER XI.
IN THE ROLE OF DRAMATICK CRITTICK.—“HOSIERY HENRYETTUR, OR
A BOOM IN FANCY GOODS.”—THE HAPPY DENEWMENT.
I didn't write nothin in you last nite, Mr. Diry, cos me and Maria—that's my gal—was takin in the furst nite at the theatur.
Jest wen I was lee vin the offis the edittur called me aside and arst me if I thot I was capabel to report the furst performance of “Hosiery Henryettur, or A Boom in Fancy Goods,” cos the dramattick edit-tur had gone and got mashed on the latest perfesshunal buty from Cleveland, and warn't fit for duty.
I sez: “You becher sweet neck, I can.”
So he give me a cupple of “comps” and a led nickle for to buy candie and peenuts with. Wen I got home I drest up in my Sunday-skule cloes, and went round and wated wile my gal was puttin on her bandyline and rubbin her face with a red sawcer wot she sez she uses for newralgy.
You bet, this devil felt proud, promerinardin his gal down the ile to the front orchestrey chares, wots reserved for us rep-rysentatives of the metrypollyton press.
I got out my note-book and pencil, and me and Maria ete candie, talked sweet, and wated developments.