TAG; OR, THE CHIEN BOULE DOG
an’ happy wit’ a bridal couple inside wot was good fer double fare an’ all of a suddent seen a jumping jackess yellin’ and pullin’ her face every which way an’ been told to pull up an’ had your tony bridal pair go runnin’ down a cellar an’ come up draggin’ Fatty here tied up in his nib’s wedding overcoat an’ stuffin’ him an’ the girl an’ that snappin’ turtle of a pup into your clean cab an’ orderin’ you to; —‘drive on—same address an’ mighty quick’ —say, you’d have found yerself wonderin’ if it was time to git up jest like I did. When I come to I was on the right street, so I says to her highness here, I says; —‘Wot’s the number?’ —I says, and she says as cool as you please, she don’t know, and I says; —‘Wot’s the name of the folks youse is goin’ to make joyous wid your presence?’ —I says, and she speaks up haughty like and says she don’t know that either. —‘Wot am I goin’
