Nixie! I ain't did nothin', but all de same I'm feelin' like a mut, see!”

Chucky was displeased with some chapter in his recent past. I could tell as much by the shifty, deprecatory way in which he twiddled and fiddled with his beer-stein.

“This is d' way it all happens,” exclaimed Chucky. “Over be Washin'ton Square there's an old soak, an' he's out to go into pol'tics—wants to hold office; Congress, I t'inks, is what this gezeybo is after. Anyhow he's nutty to hold office.

“Of course, I figgers that a guy who wants to hold office is a sucker; for meself, I'd sooner hold a baby. Still, when some such duck comes chasin' into pol'tics, I'm out for his dough like all d' rest of d' gang.

“So I goes an' gets nex' to this mucker an' jollies his game. I tells him all he's got to do is to fix his lamps on d' perch that pleases him, blow in his stuff an' me push'll toin loose, an' we'll win out d' whole box of tricks in a walk, see!

“That's all right; d' Washin'ton Square duck is of d' same views. An' some of it ain't no foolish talk at that. I'm dead strong wit' d' Dagoes, an' d' push about d' Bend, an' me old chum—if he starts—is goin' to get a run for his money.

“It ain t this, however, what wilts me d' way you sees to-night. It's that I'm 'shamed, see! In d' foist place, I'm bashful. That's straight stuff; I'm so bashful that if I'm in some other geezer's joint—par-tic'ler if he's a high roller an' t'rowin' on social lugs, like this Washin'ton Square party—I feels like creep-in' under d' door mat.

“D' other night this can'date for office says, says he, 'Chucky, I'm goin to begin my money-boinin' be givin' a dinner over be me house, an' youse are in it, see! in it wit' bot' feet.*

“'Be I comin' to chew at your joint?' I asts; 'is that d' bright idee?'

“'That's d' stuff,' he says; 'youse are comin' to eat wit' me an' me friends. An' you can gamble your socks me friends is a flossy bunch at that.'

“I says I'll assemble wit' 'em.

“Nit, I ain't stuck on d' play. I'd sooner eat be meself. But if I'm goin' to catch up wit' his Whiskers an' sep'rate him from some of d' long green, I've got to stay dost to his game, see!

“It's at d' table me troubles begins. I does d' social double-shuffle in d' hall all right. D' crush parts to let me t'rough, an' I woiks me way up to me can'date—who, of course, is d' main hobo, bein' he's d' architect of d' blowout—an' gives him d' joyful mit; what you calls d' glad hand.

“'Glad to see youse, Chucky,' says d' old mark. 'Tummas, steer Chucky to his stool be d' table.'

“It's at d' table I'm rattled, wit' all d' glasses an' dishes an 'd' lights overhead. But I'm cooney all d' same. I ain't onto d' graft meself, but I puts it up on d' quiet I'll pick out some student who knows d' ropes an' string me bets wit' his.

“As I sets there, I flashes me lamps along d' line, an' sort o' stacks up d' blokes, for to pick out d' fly guys from d' lobsters, see!

“Over'cross'd table I lights on an old stiff who looks like he could teach d' game. T'inks I to meself, 'There's a mut who's been t'rough d' mill many a time an' oft. All I got to do now is to pipe his play an' never let him out o' me sight. If I follows his smoke, I'll finish in d' front somewheres, an' none of these mugs 'll tumble to me ignorance.'

“Say! on d' level! there was no flies on that for a scheme, was there? An' it would have been all right, me system would; only this old galoot I goes nex' to don't have no more sense than me. Why! he was d' ass of d' evening! d' prize pig of d' play, he was! Let me tell youse.

“D' foist move, he spreads a little table clot' across his legs. I ain't missin' no tricks, so I gets me hooks on me own little table clot' and spreads it over me legs also.

“'This is good enough for a dog, I t'inks, an' easy money! Be keepin' me eye on Mr. Goodplayer over there I can do this stunt all right.'

“An' so I does. I never lets him lose me onct.

“'How be youse makin' it, Chucky?' shouts me can'date from up be d' end of d' room.

“'Out o' sight!' I says. 'I'm winner from d' jump; I'm on velvet.'

“'Play ball!' me can'date shouts back to encourage me, I suppose because he's dead on I ain't no Foxy Quiller at d' racket we're at; 'play ball, Chucky, an' don't let 'em fan youse out. When you can't bat d' ball, bunt it,' says me can'date.

“Of course gettin 'd' gay face that way from d' boss gives me confidence, an' as a result it ain't two seconts before I'm all but caught off me base. It's in d' soup innin's an 'd' flunk slams down d' consomme in a tea cup. It's a new one on me for fair! I don't at d' time have me lamps on d' mark 'cross d' way, who I'm understudyin', bein' busy, as I says, slingin 'd' bit of guff I tells of wit' me can'date. An' bein' off me guard, I takes d' soup for tea or some such dope, an' is layin' out to sugar it.

“'Stan' your hand!' says a dub who's organised be me right elbow, an' who's feedin' his face wit' both mits; 'set a brake!' he says. 'That's soup. Did youse t'ink it was booze?'

“After that I fastens to d' old skate across d' table to note where he's at wit' his game. He's doin' his toin on d' consomme wit' a spoon, so I gets a spoon in me hooks, goes to mixin' it up wit 'd' soup as fast as ever, an' follows him out.

“An' say! I'm feelin' dead grateful to this snoozer, see! He was d' ugliest mug I ever meets, at that. Say! he was d' limit for looks, an' don't youse doubt it. As I sizes him up I was t'inking to meself, what a wonder he is! Honest! if I was a lion an' that old party comes into me cage, do youse know what I'd do? Nit; you don't. Well, I'll tip it to youse straight. If any such lookin' monster showed up in me cage, if d' door was open, I'd get out. That's on d' square, I'd simply give him d' cage an' go an' board in d' woods. An' if d' door was locked an' I couldn't get out, I'd t'row a fit from d' scare. Oh! he was a dream! He's one of them t'ings a mark sees after he's been hittin' it up wit 'd' lush for a mont'.

“'But simply because he looks like a murderer,' I reflects, 'that's no reason why he ain't wise. He knows his way t'rough this dinner like a p'liceman does his beat, an' I'll go wit' him.'

“It's a go! When he plays a fork, I plays a fork; when he boards a shave, I'm only a neck behint him. When he shifts his brush an' tucks his little table clot' over his t'ree-sheet, I'm wit' him. I plays nex' to him from soda to hock.

“An' every secont I'm gettin' more confidence in this gezebo, an' more an' more stuck on meself. On d' dead! I was farmer enough to t'ink I'd t'ank him for bein' me guide before I shook d' push an' quit. Say! he'd be a nice old dub for me to be t'ankin 'd' way it toins out. I was a good t'ing to follow him, I don't t'ink.

“If I was onto it early that me old friend across d' table had w'eels an' was wrong in his cocoa, I wouldn't have felt so bad, see! But I'd been playin' him to win, an' followin' his lead for two hours. An' I was so sure I was trottin' in front, that all d' time I was jollyin' meself, an' pattin' meself on d' back, an' tellin' meself I was a corker to be gettin' an even run wit 'd' 400 d' way I was, d' foist time I enter s'ciety. An' of course, lettin' me nut swell that way makes it all d' harder when I gets d' jolt.

“It's at d' finish. I'd gone down d' line wit' this sucker, when one of them waiter touts, who's cappin' d' play for d' kitchen, shoves a bowl of water in front of him. Now, what do youse t'ink he does? Drink it? Nit; that's what he ought to have done. I'm Dutch if he don't up an' sink his hooks in it. An' then he swabs off his mits wit' d' little table clot'. Say! an' to t'ink I'd been takin' his steer t'rough d' whole racket! It makes me tired to tell it!

“'W'at th' 'ell!' I says to meself; 'I've been on a dead one from d' start. This stiff is a bigger mut than I be.'

“It let me out. Me heart was broke, an' I ain't had d' gall to hunt up me can'date since. Nit; I don't stay to say no 'good-byes.' I'm too bashful, as I tells you at d' beginnin'. As it is, I cops a sneak on d' door, side-steps d' outfit, an' screws me nut. The can'date sees me oozin' out, however, an' sends a chaser after me in d' shape of one of his flunks. He wants me to come back. He says me can'date wants to present me to his friends. I couldn't stan' for it d' way I felt, an' as d' flunk shows fight an' is goin' to take me back be force, I soaks him one an' comes away. On d' dead! I feels as'shamed of d' entire racket as if some sucker had pushed in me face.”