“This is, Swinney,” said Fredericks, waving the wedding-card. “It isn’t even postmarked Fort Robertson. The last census found twenty-three thousand four hundred and five Mary Smiths. This is just one of the others, my boy.”
Swinnerton made a full confession to Fredericks before the week was over. He had received three delayed love-letters and a congratulatory telegram from the President of the United States, though it was significant that every admiring newspaper sensed the humor of a single fat surgeon waddling up to a firing-line and bluffing it into submission.
“I reckon,” he smiled a little ruefully, “that it’s written in the books that I’m to be a silly ass of sorts for all my mortal days. But I’m cured of minding it, and I’m a most uncommonly happy one, Freddie.”
THE THAMES
AN UNCOMMERCIAL TRAVELER IN LONDON
BY THEODORE DREISER
Author of “Sister Carrie,” “Jennie Gerhardt,” etc.