ously plotting, and whispering my name to the stars, you know. At least I hope he did! At any rate, I felt sure he was pretty busy doing something, and even in the maddest whirl I kept a sharp eye on my watch.
At a quarter of two, just as I had finished an extra with a delightful young troubadour named Edgar Smith, I decided it was time to draw out and find papa. So, chasing up mamma, and accepting the troubadour's escort, we three made a course for one of the supper rooms, where a passing brigand told us he was playing poker. Sure enough he was, snugged cozily in a corner with a policeman, Alfred the Great, and Captain Kidd; and mighty hard work it was, too, to drag him out. Papa's like the pig that you had to pull his head off to get to a party, and his tail off to get him away. He didn't want to come a bit, and said, "Oh, bother! What's the hurry?"
I let him play out his game and lose eight dollars, and then yanked him off, saying I was a little faint and wanted to leave. There was
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