"If you put Jergens on the invitation, they'll know it's a regular party," Dan had explained. "Those babies can certainly knock out the hot mamma jazz."
Peggy, though she had declined Harold's invitation in advance, received one of the handsomely engraved cards through the mail. She read it thoughtfully, sensing the spirit with which "Speedy's" début as a dance host was being received throughout the campus. And Peggy's surmise as to the way the invitations were hailed was quite correct. Chums hailed each other and exhibited the bids jovially to each other. Classroom recitations were almost broken up as the students doubled up with laughter at this latest ridiculous move of "'Speedy' the Spender."
Meanwhile, the innocent host was worried about the "formal" item on the invitation. In Sanford he had worn his father's dress suit, but he had picked up the information since coming to Tate that dress suits in collegiate circles were passe. Tuxedos were the correct thing.
Harold brought from his desk drawer the elaborate advertising card of a local tailor. It bore a fancy drawing of a super-elegant young man attired in an immaculate tuxedo, with this legend:
