“In N. Y.,” she report with Waldorf expression, “home is where we pay our rent.”
Mr Editor, when that lady show me her apartment I was jigged by surprise. Each room was less than life-size, yet it contain wealth resembling Buckingham. Mahoganish doors, plush walls, luxury here and there—but where was there room to live in?
“This are drawing-room,” she indicate, making points to Pullman-car compartment containing gas-log and French-speaking furniture. I should like to set down in such a room, but the chairs was in the way.
She show me dinning-room. It contain four-plate-power table, portraits of fish on walls and shelf with several beery steins with German motto, “Drinken, Dranken, Drunken.”
“This cozy room are good for small banquets,” she acknowledge.
“Small banquets is oftenly the most limited,” I encouridge.
She show me library.
“This are called the snuggery,” she condole. I felt very congested to look at it. Folks must snug very snugly to snuggle into such a snuggery. On high top shelf was following books to show it was a library: “Pilgrum’s Progress,” “Life of John Drew,” “Bradstreet on Financial Failures,” “Blue Book of N. Y. Smarty Set.”
Under table was poker chips to entertain scholars while reading.