THE IMP'S MATINÉE
THE Imp strolled out of the big summer hotel with that careless and disengaged air that meant particular and pressing business. It was very early—lunch was barely over—and he was the only person on the broad piazza. As he rounded the corner he ran against Bell-boy No. 5, a great friend of his.
"Hello, Imp!" shouted No. 5, "where you goin'?"
"To the theatre to buy my ticket for the play!" announced the Imp proudly.
"Oh!" said No. 5, "guess I'd ruther go to the circus over at Milltown. That's to-day, too. Why don't you go there? Ev'rybody in town's goin', except these hotel folks. Why don't you go?"
The Imp frowned. This was a tender point. "I said that I would just as soon not go to the circus, Jim," said he. "I could have went if I had liked—that is, I very nearly could. And I
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