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But the life of the strolling player was all that he had ever known, and he found it delightful, except for the dreaded intervals of "bookin' the ac'." The dream of every vaudevillian is to be booked for fifty-two unbroken weeks in the year, but few attain such popularity.
So Freddy told her all about his mother, and about the good fortune that had come to her. "Fifty-two weeks solid! Some ac' to get that kinda bookin, huh?" he ended. "Yes! Oh, yes, indeed!" "There y'ah now! Look at youse'f! See if it's a'right." Madame d'Avala turned to the mirror. Her gown fell in serene, lovely folds. It seemed incredible that it was the little demon of a few minutes before.
"Sleepin' draughts, heart mixture, nerve tonic, stomach mixture, and so forth." "And he can tell you," said Mr. Randall, "to a month's bookin' what meddycine he'll sell." "What's more," said the chemist, with a sinister intonation, "I can tell who'll want 'em." "Can you reelly now?" said Mrs. Randall. "Why, Fulleymore, you should have been a doctor. Shouldn't he, Emmy?" Mrs.
"When she comin' to get me, Bert?" the child asked confidently. "Why why, Freddy now you " Bert could only flounder and look dismayed. "She ain't goin' off an' leave me!" wailed the child. "Now, lissen! Say, wait a minute! Lissen!" "But, Bert! Bert! She " "Say, don't you wanna help Florette, now she's got this gran' bookin' an' all?" "Sure I do, Bert.
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