He kept up his daily visits to me right along to the week o’ the ceremony. Four days before it was scheduled he ast me where I and my Missus had spent our honeymoon.
“Oh,” I says, “we spread ourself a little. We took in Niagara and Yellowstone and the Grand Canyon and the Canal, and wound up at Honolulu.”
“Goodness!” he says. “I couldn’t never afford that.”
“I couldn’t of, neither,” says I, “only for my father-in-law stakin’ us. He was a wealthy plumber in Wabash. But haven’t you thought about your honeymoon yet?”
“No,” he says; “I been too busy to think.”
“Busy with what?” I ast him.
“Bein’ in love,” he says, blushin’ prettily. “But do you know of any inexpensive trip we might take?”
“Sure!” I says. “The Theodore Roosevelt applies between here and Michigan City. You can go and come back the same day without entirely exhaustin’ a five-case note.”
“Oh, I want to go a little stronger’n that,” says he.
“Well,” I says, “why not hire a barge and drift down the drainage canal? Or rent a motorcycle with a tub on the side and bounce to Alton or East St. Louis?”
“I’m afraid o’ boats and I can’t ride a motorcycle,” says Quinn. “We was thinkin’ some o’ runnin’ over to Detroit and takin’ in some o’ the big factories.”