The Imp Disposes
man led the Imp up to one of the big willow chairs, plumped out the pillows that half filled it and waved his hand hospitably.
"Welcome to Benedick's Inn!" he said. "I gather that you have momentarily lost your bearings?"
"I lost the chipmunk," returned the Imp cautiously.
The man laughed. "Same thing," he said. "You came from the North Beach, I suppose?"
"I live in the hotel," replied the Imp with dignity. "It is bigger than this, a great deal."
"Ah?" said the man politely. "This is not a hotel, however. It is large enough for the Benedicks. And they do not give parties."
"Why not?" asked the Imp promptly. "We do, and we have ice-cream and lanterns."
"I don't doubt you do," rejoined the man, "and that is just what we wish to avoid. Ice-cream means women, and women mean trouble and dress clothes. We came here to be by ourselves and be happy. Perfectly happy. And we are, of course. We have not a care or sorrow. We dress not, neither do we dance. I for in-
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