waistcoated

Updated: June 28, 2025

At one end a human pianola with drugged eyes hammered the keys with automatic and furious unprecision. At merciful intervals a waiter would roar or squeak a song songs full of "Mr. Johnsons" and "babes" and "coons" historical word guaranties of the genuineness of African melodies composed by red waistcoated young gentlemen, natives of the cotton fields and rice swamps of West Twenty-eighth Street.

O. Henry - Strictly business: more stories of the four million