"
"I--"
"Well--"
"I never got out of Liverpool! Worked in a restaurant.... But
next time--! I'll go clean to Constantinople!" Morton
exploded. "And I did see a lot of English life in Liverpool."
Mr. Wrenn talked long and rapidly of the world's baseball
series, and Regal _vs._ Walkover shoes.
He tried to think of something they could do. Suddenly:
"Say, Morty, I know an awful nice guy down here in a
cigar-store. Let's go down and see him."
"All right."
Tom Poppins was very cordial to them. He dragged brown canvas
stools out of the tobacco-scented room where cigars were made,
and the three of them squatted in the back of the store, while
Tom gossiped of the Juarez races, Taft, cigar-wrappers, and Jews.
Morton was aroused to tell the time-mellowed story of the judge
and the darky. He was cheerful and laughed much and frequently
said "Ah there, cull!" in general commendation. But he kept
looking at the clock on the jog in the wall over the
watercooler. Just at ten he rose abashedly, hesitated, and
murmured, "Well, I guess I'll have to be beating it home.
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