The party addressed didn’t look very clubby, but she was too polite to pull the cut direct.
“We leave tomorrow night,” she says.
Nobody ast her where we was goin’.
“We leave for Palm Beach,” she says.
“That’s a nice place, I guess,” says one o’ the old ones. “More people goes there than comes here. It ain’t so expensive there, I guess.”
“You’re some guesser,” says the Missus and freezes up.
I ast Jake if he’d been to Florida before.
“No,” he says; “this is our first trip, but we’re makin’ up for lost time. We’re seein’ all they is to see and havin’ everything the best.”
“You’re havin’ everything, all right,” I says, “but I don’t know if it’s the best or not. How long have you been here?”
“A week tomorrow,” says he. “And we stay another week and then go to Ormond.”
“Are you standin’ the trip OK?” I ast him.
“Well,” he says, “I don’t feel quite as good as when we first come.”
“Kind o’ logy?” I says.
“Yes; kind o’ heavy,” says Jake.
“I know what you ought to do,” says I. “You ought to go to a European plan hotel.”
“Not w’ile this war’s on,” he says, “and besides, my mother’s a poor sailor.”