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Carl Ericson, grown to sixteen and long trousers, trimmed the arc-lights for the Joralemon Power and Lighting Company, after school; then at Eddie Klemm's billiard-parlor he won two games of Kelly pool, smoked a cigarette of flake tobacco and wheat-straw paper, and "chipped in" five cents toward a can of beer.
Griffin had been very haughty to Eddie Klemm, when introduced to that brisk young man at the billiard-parlor, and now, the town eagerly learned, Eddie had been rejected of society. In the laboratory Carl was growling: "Well, say, Fatty, if it was right for them to throw Eddie out, where do I come in? His dad 's a barber, and mine 's a carpenter, and that's just as bad. Or how about you?
Carl: "Ohhhhh say, whatever did become of Oh, I can't think of his name Oh, you know I know his name well as I do my own, but it's slipped me, just for the moment You know, he ran the billiard-parlor; the son of the " Mrs. Cowles: "Do you write to your father and mother, Carl? You ought to." Carl: "Oh yes, I write to them quite often, now, though for a time I didn't." Mrs.
Fifteen minutes in this irreproachable home sent Carl off to Eddie Klemm's billiard-parlor, which was not irreproachable. He rather disliked the bitterness of beer and the acrid specks of cigarette tobacco that stuck to his lips, but the "bunch at Eddie's" were among the few people in Joralemon who were conscious of life.
"I suppose you're dreadfully bored, though, when you could be down at the billiard-parlor?" "Yes, I could! Not! Eddie Klemm and his fancy vest wouldn't have much chance, alongside of Griffin in his dress-suit! Course I don't want to knock Eddie. Him and me are pretty good side-kicks " "Oh no; I understand. It's just that people have to go with their own class, don't you think?" "Oh Yes. Sure.
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