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"Hamilton," said Master Freddie. "Well, sir?" said the other. "Whuzzamatter wizze dinin'-room doors?" "Nothing is the matter, sir." "Then why dontcha openum?" The man rolled them back; another vista lost itself in the darkness. "Lights," commanded Master Freddie; and the butler pressed a button, and a flood of brilliant incandescence streamed from above, half-blinding Jurgis.
But I'm no more drunk than you are, Kittens, says I to her. 'Lemme call a cab now, like a good dear' but I can call my own cabs, dontcha fool yourself and I know what I'm a-doin', you bet! Say, my fren', whatcha say willye come home an' see me, an' hassome supper? Come 'long like a good feller don't be haughty!
"But I came all right, all right," continued the youngster, aggressively, "I can hic I can have my own way when I want it, by Harry Freddie Jones is a hard man to handle when he gets goin'! 'No, sir, says I, 'by thunder, and I don't need anybody goin' home with me, either whujja take me for, hey? Think I'm drunk, dontcha, hey? I know you!
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