“Joyce said, ‘Yes, but when you are doing both at the same time, you can at least be polite. I mean not only the Doctor, but you. It’s an honor to be invited to things like that. And Mrs. Maxwell-Reeves did not invite you there to laugh.’

“I said, ‘I didn’t know I was laughing.’

“‘Everybody else knew it,’ she said when we got to her door. ‘You was heard all over the hall. I was embarrassed not only for you, but for myself. I would like you to know that I am not built like you. I cannot just drink and forget.’

“‘No matter how many drinks I drink,’ I said, ‘I will not forget this.’ Then I laughed again—which were my error! I did not even get a good-night kiss—Joyce slammed the vestibule door dead in my face. So I went home to my Third Floor Rear—and laughed some more. If I wasn’t honored, I sure was tickled, and, at least, I ain’t stingy like them Sugar-Hillers. They wouldn’t buy none of his art when he could still enjoy the benefits. But me, I’d buy that old man a beer any time.”

A Veteran Falls

A Veteran Falls

“IT’S a sad and sorry thing to see how some of these fellows come back from the war all wounded and crippled up, ain’t it?” said Simple. “Last Saturday night I was climbing that 145th Street hill from Eighth Avenue when it was half raining, half sleeting, and cold. I was just thinking about turning into a bar to have me a drink, when I saw a long tall one-legged soldier coming down the hill on crutches, just swinging it, man, like he was in a hurry on one leg.

“He was in a hurry because two dopey dames was behind him trying to keep up with him, and it looked like he was disgusted with both of them. Then something kind of sad happened, man. Right in front of the bar under all them neon lights, one of his crutches skidded on the wet sidewalk and that veteran slipped and fell down. His one good leg went out from under him and he went flat on the pavement.

“But this were the other part—both of them women rushed to pick him up. You could see how that soldier was embarrassed, trying to ignore them homely dames, and here he had done fell down. The tall woman bent over and took him by the arm to pull him up from the sidewalk.

“But the little woman hollered, ‘Don’t you pick him up, Cassie! I’ll pick him up, myself. He’s mine! He was trying to jump salty with me tonight—but he’s mine right on.’

“‘I will so pick him up,’ yelled the tall woman. ‘He’s an old flame and I mean from way back! I will pick him up!’