“Yes,” says his mother; “I’m a very poor sailor.”
“Jake’s mother can’t stand the water,” says Mrs. Jake.
So I begun to believe that Jake’s wife’s mother-in-law was a total failure as a jolly tar.
Social intercourse was put an end to when the waiter staggered in with their order and our’n. The Missus seemed to of lost her appetite and just set there lookin’ grouchy and tappin’ her fingers on the tablecloth and actin’ like she was in a hurry to get away. I didn’t eat much, neither. It was more fun watchin’.
“Well,” I says, when we was out in the lobby, “we finally got acquainted with some real people.”
“Real people!” says the Missus, curlin’ her lip. “What did you talk to ’em for?”
“I couldn’t resist,” I says. “Anybody that’d order four oyster cocktails and four rounds o’ bluepoints is worth knowin’.”
“Well,” she says, “if they’re there when we go in tomorrow mornin’ we’ll get our table changed again or you can eat with ’em alone.”
But they was absent from the breakfast board.
“They’re probably stayin’ in bed today to get their clo’es washed,” says the Missus.
“Or maybe they’re sick,” I says. “A change of oysters affects some people.”
I was for goin’ over to the island again and gettin’ another o’ them quarter banquets, but the program was for us to walk round town all mornin’ and take a ride in the afternoon.