We quit attendin’ pitcher shows because the rest o’ the audience wasn’t the kind o’ people you’d care to mix with. We didn’t go over to Ben’s and dance because they wasn’t no class to the crowd there. About once a week we’d beat it to one o’ the good hotels downtown, all dressed up like a horse, and have our dinner with the rest o’ the E-light. They wasn’t nobody talked to us only the waiters, but we could look as much as we liked and it was sport tryin’ to guess the names o’ the gang at the next table.
Then we took to readin’ the society news at breakfast. It used to be that I didn’t waste time on nothin’ but the market and sportin’ pages, but now I pass ’em up and listen w’ile the Missus rattled off what was doin’ on the Lake Shore Drive.
Every little w’ile we’d see where So-and-So was at Palm Beach or just goin’ there or just comin’ back. We got to kiddin’ about it.
“Well,” I’d say, “we’d better be startin’ pretty soon or we’ll miss the best part o’ the season.”
“Yes,” the Wife’d say back, “we’d go right now if it wasn’t for all them engagements next week.”
We kidded and kidded till finally, one night, she forgot we was just kiddin’.
“You didn’t take no vacation last summer,” she says.
“No,” says I. “They wasn’t no chance to get away.”
“But you promised me,” she says, “that you’d take one this winter to make up for it.”
“I know I did,” I says; “but it’d be a sucker play to take a vacation in weather like this.”