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Updated: May 6, 2025
"Want any money?" She looked at him. He was not unlike John Barrymore in The Jest, and Warble fell for him afresh. "You are so beautiful " she wailed. "I wish you loved me " "I wish I did," he returned, honestly, "but you are such a butter-ball." "Oh, Butterfly Thenter calls anybody Butter-ball who weights over ninety-five! If you're so cut up about it I won't live under this roof another minute!
"I'm going where I can live a busy, useful life not a Butterfly existence, with nothing to occupy my mind but art and hifalutin lingo! I can't express myself with long candles and Oriental junk! I'm going oh, I don't know where I'm going, but I'm taking the next train out of Butterfly Thenter!" "Warble haven't I treated you right? Haven't you had enough to eat?
Later in the game, she said, with pretty diffidence, "I would like to thee Butterfly Thenter." And she blushed like the inside of those pink meat melons. "I knew it!" and Petticoat produced a pile of Sunday Picture Supplements. Her cheek nested in his permanent wave, Warble studied the pictures. They were the last word in artistic architecture.
One night, sitting on top of the Taj Mahal, 'neath the Blue Moon of Persia, Warble cried, "Shall I go back to Butterfly Thenter or shall I not?" "Spin a toddletop," said Petticoat, taking one from his pocket. She spun it and it came up pickle foundry. So Warble said, "All right, dear, I'll go home with you whenever you're ready," and she kissed him slenderly. Ptomaine Haul.
"No, he is not! He has noble impulses ragpicking inspired! His eyes were misty when he spoke of it "A way out of Butterfly Thenter! "A ragpicker's cart "A way out " Petticoat held her up. "You seem a bit gone on that tin-type fellow, Sproggins." "Yop. Maybe I'd better go to Atlantic Thity for a while." "Oh, no, you stay here. A lady's place is in the home." So she was fairly thrown at Porgie.
He brushed a butterfly kiss across her left eyebrow, and together they strolled back into the house, and as he went up to bed, Warble went down to the pantry to see about something. "I d-don't belong to Butterfly Thenter," Warble sobbed, "I don't b-belong and I-m g-going away " "All right," Petticoat said, cheerfully, "how long'll you be gone?" "It may be four yearth and it may be eleven "
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