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Ford, Sewell, 1868-1946

"Wilt Thou Torchy"

So it's me makin' the timely play with a couple of seats in E
center and almost gettin' hugged for it. Even Auntie shoots me an
approvin' glance as she hands down a favorable decision.
So we sits through five acts of piffle that was mostly talky junk to
me. And, at that, I wa'n't sufferin' exactly; for when them actorines
got too weird, all I had to do was swing a bit in my seat and I had a
side view of a spiffy little white fur boa, with a pink ear-tip showin'
under a ripple of corn-colored hair, and a--well, I had something worth
watching that's all.
"Wasn't that last thing stupid?" says Vee.
"Didn't bother me any," says I. "Maybe I wa'n't followin' it real
close."
"The idea!" says, she. "Why come to the theater, anyway?"
"Lean closer and I'll whisper," says I.
"Silly!" says she. "Here! Have a chocolate."
"Toss," says I, openin' my mouth.
Vee snickers. "Suppose I missed and hit the fat man beyond?"
"It's a sportin' chance he takes," says I. "Shoot."
I had to bump Fatty a bit makin' the catch; but when he sees what the
game is, he comes back with the friendly grin.
"There!" says Vee, tintin' up. "Now behave."
"Sorry," says I, "but I had to field my position, didn't I? Once more,
now."
"Certainly not," says Vee.


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