“Here
Truthful
Freddie
—sits by the hour, in
the golden evening
glow, dreaming of—what?”
“Salad
day.
Before seven o’clock this morning Curly and the Duke had caught enough crabs to supply the mess of a man-of-war. The salad—prepared by the Duke, of course—was pronounced excellent in technique, although somewhat after the manner of Bouguereau, being extremely smooth and delicate.
But this
can be
forgiven