"Did you see her!" said the Gutter Pup ecstatically, after they had allowed the pent-up hilarity to die out behind the sheltering hedge. "Skippy, old top, when that last bunch arrived, I thought she certainly was going down for the count."
"Her eyes were jumping and she was breathing like a horse."
"Well, how do you like the idea?"
"Best Sunday afternoon I ever spent."
"Where away now?"
"I'd like to work it on Tootsie."
"Hold up—my sister needs it more than yours."
The point was debated and as no decision could be reached it was decided to keep to the regular program. The afternoon was a huge success from the point of view of the male phalanx. The destruction was enormous. One or two young ladies held out until the fifth relay but almost collapsed at the fourth.
"'Course they'll all get together to-morrow and have it in for us," said the Gutter Pup, chortling. "But never mind, it was worth it. Did you ever see anything as idiotically solemn as Tacks Brooker? When he arrives they certainly throw up the sponge."
"Have we time for another?"