"
"You're the brother-in-law to a wise one," commented the
Brass-button Man. "Me, I ain't never got the sense to do the
traffic cop on the booze. The old woman she says to me, `Mory,'
she says, `if you was in heaven and there was a pail of beer on
one side and a gold harp on the other,' she says, `and you was
to have your pick, which would you take?' And what 'd yuh think
I answers her?"
"The beer," said the bartender. "She had your number, all right."
"Not on your tin-type," declared the ticket-taker.
"`Me?' I says to her. `Me? I'd pinch the harp and pawn it for
ten growlers of Dutch beer and some man-sized rum!'"
"Hee, hee hee!" grinned Mr. Wrenn.
"Ha, ha, ha!" grumbled the bartender.
"Well-l-l," yawned the ticket-taker, "the old woman'll be
chasing me best pants around the flat, if she don't have me to
chase, pretty soon. Guess I'd better beat it. Much obliged for
the drink, Mr. Uh. So long, Jimmy."
Mr. Wrenn set off for home in a high state of exhilaration
which, he noticed, exactly resembled driving an aeroplane, and
went briskly up the steps of the Zapps' genteel but unexciting
residence.
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