"Anything very dismal about that, Mrs. Bowser? I've got ten couple without moving out of my tracks. I'll have the other eight before to-morrow night."
"That is, they will promise to come."
"Promise! Promise! Do you imagine that all other people are like you? Most folks know their own minds for a day or two ahead, Mrs. Bowser."
When he came home next night he had a list of eighteen couples who had been invited and solemnly promised to come. Mr. Bowser had made it a point to inform each one that the playing would begin at eight sharp, and all had agreed to be on hand fifteen minutes before that hour.
"Voted too much trouble—can't get people enough!" sneered Mr. Bowser as he looked over the list. "It's in the management, Mrs. Bowser—all in the management."
For three days he walked around on tiptoe and took every occasion to brag over me. Then came the first setback. We were at dinner when the telephone rang and Mr. Bowser was asked for.
"Hello, Bowser."
"Yes."
"This is Filbert."
"Yes."