the other’s just a place for the husband and father to lay round in so’s they won’t be disturbed by watchin’ the women work.
It was a blessin’ to them boys when their states went dry. Just think what a strain it must of been to keep liftin’ glasses and huntin’ in their overalls for a dime!
In the afternoon the Missus went into our apartment and took a nap and I moseyed into the readin’ room and looked over some o’ the comical magazines. They was a fat guy come in and set next to me. I’d heard him, in at lunch, tellin’ the dinin’-car conductor what Wilson should of done, so I wasn’t su’prised when he opened up on me.
“Tiresome trip,” he says.
I didn’t think it was worth w’ile arguin’ with him.
“Must of been a lot o’ rain through here,” he says.
“Either that,” says I, “or else the sprinklin’ wagon run shy o’ streets.”
He laughed as much as it was worth.
“Where do you come from?” he ast me.
“Dear old Chicago,” I says.
“I’m from St. Louis,” he says.
“You’re frank,” says I.
“I’m really as much at home one place as another,” he says. “The Wife likes to travel and why shouldn’t I humor her?”
“I don’t know,” I says. “I haven’t the pleasure.”