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Asprey Chown's private room. The Terror of the departments was shaken. Ozzie laughed gently as he shut the door. "What will happen?" asked Mr. Prohack, affecting a gaiety he did not feel.
"Hullo, dad!" said the youth, "you're the very man I was looking for," and he drew his father out into the corridor. "You've got two of the finest ballroom dancers I ever saw," he added to Ozzie. "Haven't we!" Ozzie concurred, with faint enthusiasm. "But the rest of the show ..." Charlie went on, ruthless. "Well, if Chown's shows were only equal to his showmanship...! Only they aren't!"
Prohack had some sort of a notion of his own dignity, a sort of a notion that occasionally took him quite by surprise. Mr. Prohack did not even know the surname of his aggressor. He only knew that he never overheard other men call him anything but "Ozzie." Had not Mr.
Afterwards when it's all over an' understood they can square it up in other ways. When a man or 'oman is caught and downed it's all over they can't tell the truth then an' get straight an' there's no come ag'in! But if they lie an' brazen it out they'll have another chance yet. Then's the time to stop lyin' after yo' ain't caught." "Oh, I can't," said Ozzie B., trying to pull away.
Paw'll know all about it when you git home he'll lick you." Ozzie B. only shook his head: "It's my duty hate to do it, Archie B. but it's my duty. If the Lord wills me a lickin' for tellin' the truth, I'll, I'll hafter take it " and he looked very resigned. "Oh, you're playin' for martyrdom again!" "There was Casabianca, Archie B. him that stood on the burnin' deck" he ventured timidly.
With this he kicked Ozzie B. soundly and sent him, still sobbing, up the road. Then he ran across the wood to head off Jud Carpenter, who he knew had to go around a bend in the road. There was no bird that Archie B. could not mimic. He knew every creature of the wood. Every wild thing of the field and forest was his friend.
Prohack knew, from his knowledge of her, that Sissie was in a secret ecstasy of enjoyment while dancing with this man. He did not like her ecstasy. Was it possible that she, so sensible and acute, had failed to perceive that the fellow was a perfect ass? For in spite of his amiability, a perfect ass the fellow was. The sight of his Sissie held in the arms of Ozzie Morfey revolted Mr. Prohack.
It was Ozzie B. of course, and Archie B. turned cautiously around to the Hillites behind, after the Elder had gone back to his chapter, and whispered: "Venture pee-wee under the bridge bam bam bam." Throughout the sermon Archie B. kept the young Hillites in a paroxysm of smirks.
Prohack had once asked a friend in the club, and having received no answer but "Ozzie," Mr. Prohack had added: "He's a perfect ass," and had given as a reason for this harsh judgment: "Well, I can't stick the way he walks across the hall." In the precincts of the dance-studio Mr.
"I suppose you've seen the new version of the 'Sacre du Prin-temps, Miss Fancy," said Mrs. Oswald Morfey, that exceedingly modern and self-possessed young married lady. "Not yet," said Miss Fancy, and foolishly added: "We were thinking of going to-night." "There won't be any more performances this season," said Ozzie, that prince of authorities on the universe of entertainment.
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