Part 57 (1/2)
”Oh, Lulu, it--it ain't that, and you know it.”
”You're all alike. Didn't my last chum, Della Bradenwald, do the same thing? I interdooced her to a gen'l'man friend of mine, a slick little doorman for a two-day show, and what did she do? Scat! After the second day it was good-by, Loo-Loo! They went kitin' it off together and dropped me and Harry like parachutes!”
”Loo, darlin', honest, me and Joe just love goin' round dancin' with you and Harry; but--but--”
”Then what's hurtin' you?”
”It's ma again, Loo. She looked like she was ready for one of her spells when I left; she's been worse again these two days, and the doctor says we mustn't get her excited--her heart's b.u.m, Loo.”
”Say, I used to have heart failure myself, and I know a swell cure--Hartley's Heart's Ease. Honest, when I was over at the Olympic I used to go dead like a tire. Lend me your eyestick, Ess.”
”You'll laff, Loo; but she's daffy for me and Joe to come home after the show; she's never seen him at all, and--”
”Oh, Gawd, I gotta flashlight of Joe!”
”When ma and I was clerkin' the girls and fellows always used to come to our flat, Loo; and, say, for fun! Ma was as lively as any of us in those days; and we'd have sardine sandwiches, and my kid brother used to imitate all kinds of music and actors; and we used to laff and laff until they'd knock on the ceiling from up-stairs and ma'd pack the whole lot of 'em home. Why don't you and Harry come up to-night, too, Loo? And we'll have a little doin's.”
”Nothin' doin', Beauty. There's a Free-for-All Tango Contest round at the Poppy Garden to-night; and, believe me, I wouldn't mind winning that pink ivory manicure set. All I gotta ask is one thing, Ess! Bring me a snapshot of Joe doing the fireside act!”
The glaze of unshed tears sprang over Miss Birdsong's eyes like gauzy clouds across a summer sky.
”I--that's just it, Loo. I can't get him to come. Sometimes I think maybe it's just because he's stringing me along; and I--he--he was your friend first, Loo. Ain't he ever said anything to you about me--about--aw, you know what I mean, Loo?”
”He's hipped on you, girl. I know Joe Ullman like I know the floor-plan of this theater.”
”Honest, Loo, do you think so?”
”Sure! Gawd! I knew Joe when I was making sateen daisies in a artificial-flower loft on Twenty-second Street; and him and my brother was clerkin' in a cigar store on Twenty-third and running a neat little book on the side.”
”A book?”
”Yes, dearie--a pretty picture-book.”
”Joe never told me.”
”He ain't always been the thirty-dollar-a-week kid he is now--take it from me. Just the same, you can thank me for interdoocing you to the sharpest little fellow that's selling tickets on the sidewalks of this great and wicked city.”
”I always tell him he ought to save more--taxis and all he has to have, that spendy he is!”
”Sidewalk speculatin' is a good pastime if you're sharp enough; and I always tell Joe he's got a edge on him like a razor.”
”Like a razor! Aw, Loo, you talk like he was a barber.”
”Sure, he's that sharp! Take Harry now: he's as slick as a watermelon-seed when it comes to pickin' a sheet of music with a whistle in it; but put him in a game like Joe's, with the law cross-eyed from winkin' and frownin' at the same time, and he'd lose his nerve.”
”It ain't a game, Loo. Joe says there ain't a reason why a fellow can't sell a theater ticket at a profit, just like Harry sells a sheet of music. Sidewalks are free for all.”
”Leave it to Joe to stretch the language like a rubber band. His middle name is Gutta-Percha.”
”He was your friend first.”
”He is yet, Beauty--even if you have grabbed him. I like him--he's one good sport; but with Joe's gift for tongue-work he could make a jury believe a Bowery jewelry store ought to have a _habeas corpus_ for every body it s.n.a.t.c.hes; he could rob a cradle and get a hero medal for it.”