TAG; OR, THE CHIEN BOULE DOG
asleep on her sister’s shoulder by this time, so was not disturbed by the incredulous exclamations which followed:
“Josephine did that!”
“What—Josephine!”
“She ain’t so slow!” (this last from the lady of the lunch counter in a tone of lively admiration).
Josephine’s sister cricked her neck as far to one side as possible and gazed slantwise at the innocent countenance of the sleeping one as if she had never really seen it before. After a prolonged examination, she shook her head.
“I don’t believe she ever said them things. I'll bet the man was drunk an’ put up that song an’ dance to keep from bein’ run in.”
The gentleman of the party good-naturedly agreed that this was most likely the case. Cab drivers, he said, were a queer lot. “We
