Did you ever get to seeing things as they really was and wondering why on earth people go through such a lot of motions pretending things is not what they seem, as some guy so truly says—do you get me? As soon as I had said "hold-up" I realized that that was just what was being done. And when I realized that it was necessary to hold up people in order to get them to make a safe investment which would earn them a good net profit while saving their fool lives, I got so raving mad that a gun seemed too good for them. And mad at myself, too, for not seeing sooner how much my own Jim's welfare was hanging onto my shoulders. Somehow up to then I had really a idea that the bunch down in Washington was relieving me of all trouble and responsibility about this war. But now I seen it wasn't so. If the G.A.P. or Great American People was actually such boobs that they didn't flock up and wish their life savings onto such a scheme, they had ought to be made to, same as Ma used to hold my nose for my own good and believe you me—I can taste that oil to this day!
Well, anyways, this philosophy stuff kept going through my mind while running up a considerable check which Gawd knows we needed it or the undertaker would of conscripted us. And then all of a sudden who did I see but Ruby Roselle only two tables away and with her a husky young lounge-lizzard which goes around with her a lot—you know—one of the kind whose favorite flower is the wild oat, but never has anything to spend but the evening. And him and Ruby had their heads together and was watching me like the German spies in a movie which every one in the audience spots except their victims which of course are looking at the director close up front which is certainly the only reason they are fooled.
Well, anyways, I was surprised to see Ruby because Broadway places is more her speed, and I never see her in such refined surroundings before. But I realizing about her kind of patriotism I commenced wondering wasn't she there to watch me? Though for what reason I had no idea.
That night after the show, I asked Goldringer wouldn't he use the admission by W.S.S. Saturday, and he wouldn't because he had it on for one of his other theatres. And so I went home in despair and a taxi, and was further cheered by a empty letter-box.
In the morning the cards come—a thousand of them—and certainly more elegant looking than I had expected, I will say that for Ruby and reading as follows:
"The Theatrical Ladies W.S.S. Committee will deliver to ............ of ............ worth of W.S.S. stamps on presentation of this card. Payment for same is hereby acknowledged."
Then came a blank which it was up to me to fill in. Well, I didn't hesitate and after a hearty breakfast of crackers and milk and weak tea, I tied up the lace sleeves of my negligee and set to work at signing them. Believe you me, before I was done I quite see why President Wilson used a rubber stamp! But I didn't weaken until noon, when any one would have on the meal I'd had. And by then they was finished anyways and every one of them valid and as good as my cheque. Then just as I was feeling proud of myself in come Ma and I could see at once she was going to take a fall out of me in her sweet womanly way.
"If you ain't too busy with your war work," says Ma very gentle but firm, "I'd like to talk to you about something before we set down to the skeleton lunch which is waiting and can be continued in our next for all I care!" she says.
Well, I got that gone-around-the-middle feeling which I always get when Ma gives me a certain look, just like I used to when she'd tell me soap was good for washing out the mouths of kids which had told a lie. And so I just set there and listened.
"Now, Mary Gilligan," she commenced. "Do you know the size of the cheque you signed over to the hotel last night?"