luck,” (??) walk in, but Marian; saying, oh, so shyly:—
“Just thought I’d drop in to chat with Nancy,” and, on passing a couch, slyly laid that cigar on it. Now Simpkins, in addition to his famous grouch, was a parsimonious old crab; who, though drawing good pay as Councilman, couldn’t pass up anything that cost nothing; and, in gazing around, saw that cigar; and, with a big apologizing yawn, and slinking onto that couch as a cat slinks up on a bird, and, oh, so nonchalantly lighting a match, was soon puffing away and raving about Branton Hills politics. Out in a back parlor sat Marian and Nancy on a big divan, hugging tightly up, arm in arm, and almost suffocating from holding back youthful anticipations, as Simpkins said:—
“...and that Hopkins back yard stunt! Ridiculous! Why, his kid was out, trying to find all of our Council to talk it into buying. Bah! And did I block it? I’ll say I did! You don’t find kids today laughing at Councilman Simpkins.”
An actual spasm of giggling in that back parlor had Gadsby looking around, inquiringly.
“No, sir!” Simpkins said. “No kid can fool Coun”
BANG!!
[ 193 ]
