Our Mr. Wrenn: The Romantic Adventures of a Gentle Man Part 31

"Oh, shut up," remarked Bill Wrenn, and swept the bathroom floor.

Charley stopped swas.h.i.+ng about to sneer:

"Li'l ministering angel, ain't you? You think you're awful good, don't you? Come up here and bother me. When I ain't well.

Salvation Army. You----. Aw, lemme _'lone_, will you?" Bill Wrenn kept on sweeping. "Get out, you----."

There was enough energy in Charley's voice to indicate that he was getting sober. Bill Wrenn soused him under once more, so thoroughly that his own cuffs were reduced to a state of flabbiness. He dragged Charley out, helped him dry himself, and drove him to bed.

He went out and bought dish-towels, soap, was.h.i.+ng-powder, and collars of Charley's size, which was an inch larger than his own.

He finished sweeping and dusting and was.h.i.+ng the dishes--all of them. He--who had learned to comfort Istra--he really enjoyed it. His sense of order made it a pleasure to see a plate yellow with dried egg glisten iridescently and flash into s.h.i.+ning whiteness; or a room corner filled with dust and tobacco flakes become again a "nice square clean corner with the baseboard s.h.i.+ning, gee! just like it was new."

An irate grocer called with a bill for fifteen dollars. Mr.

Wrenn blandly heard his threats all through, pretending to himself that this was his home, whose honor was his honor.

He paid the man eight dollars on account and loftily dismissed him.

He sat down to wait for Charley, reading a newspaper most of the time, but rising to pursue stray flies furiously, stumbling over chairs, and making murderous flappings with a folded newspaper.

When Charley awoke, after three hours, clear of mind but not at all clear as regards the roof of his mouth, Mr. Wrenn gave him a very little whisky, with considerable coffee, toast, and bacon.

The toast was not bad.

"Now, Charley," he said, cheerfully, "your bat's over, ain't it, old man?"

"Say, you been darn' decent to me, old man. Lord! how you've been sweeping up! How was I--was I pretty soused?"

"Honest, you were fierce. You will sober up, now, won't you?"

"Well, it's no wonder I had a cla.s.sy hang-over, Wrenn. I was at the Amusieren Rathskeller till four this morning, and then I had a couple of nips before breakfast, and then I didn't have any breakfast. But sa-a-a-ay, man, I sure did have some fiesta last night. There was a little peroxide blonde that--"

"Now you look here, Carpenter; you listen to me. You're sober now. Have you tried to find another job?"

"Yes, I did. But I got down in the mouth. Didn't feel like I had a friend left."

"Well, you h--"

"But I guess I have now, old Wrennski."

"Look here, Charley, you know I don't want to pull off no Charity Society stunt or talk like I was a preacher. But I like you so darn much I want to see you sober up and get another job.

Honestly I do, Charley. Are you broke?"

"Prett' nearly. Only got about ten dollars to my name....

I _will_ take a brace, old man. I know you ain't no preacher.

Course if you came around with any 'holierthan-thou' stunt I'd have to go right out and get soused on general principles....

Yuh--I'll try to get a job."

"Here's ten dollars. Please take it--aw--please, Charley."

"_All_ right; anything to oblige."

"What 've you got in sight in the job line?"

"Well, there's a chance at night clerking in a little hotel where I was a bell-hop long time ago. The night clerk's going to get through, but I don't know just when--prob'ly in a week or two."

"Well, keep after it. And _please_ come down to see me--the old place--West Sixteenth Street."

"What about the old girl with the ingrowing grouch? What's her name? She ain't stuck on me."

"Mrs. Zapp? Oh--hope she chokes. She can just kick all she wants to. I'm just going to have all the visitors I want to."

"All right. Say, tell us something about your trip."

"Oh, I had a great time. Lots of nice fellows on the cattle-boat.

I went over on one, you know. Fellow named Morton--awfully nice fellow. Say, Charley, you ought to seen me being butler to the steers. Handing 'em hay. But say, the sea was fine; all kinds of colors. Awful dirty on the cattle-boat, though."

"Hard work?"

"Yuh--kind of hard. Oh, not so very."

"What did you see in England?"

"Oh, a lot of different places. Say, I seen some great vaudeville in Liverpool, Charley, with Morton--he's a slick fellow; works for the Pennsylvania, here in town. I got to look him up. Say, I wish we had an agency for college sofa-pillows and banners and souvenir stuff in Oxford. There's a whole bunch of colleges there, all right in the same town. I met a prof. there from some American college--he hired an automobubble and took me down to a reg'lar old inn--"

"Well, well!"

"--like you read about; sanded floor!"

"Get to London?"

"Yuh. Gee! it's a big place. Say, that Westminster Abbey's a great place. I was in there a couple of times.

More darn tombs of kings and stuff. And I see a bishop, with leggins on! But I got kind of lonely. I thought of you a lot of times. Wished we could go out and get an ale together. Maybe pick up a couple of pretty girls."

"Oh, you sport!... Say, didn't get over to gay Paree, did you?"

"Nope.... Well, I guess I'd better beat it now.

Got to move in--I'm at a hotel. You will come down and see me to-night, won't you?"

"So you thought of me, eh?... Yuh--sure, old socks.

I'll be down to-night. And I'll get right after that job."

It is doubtful whether Mr. Wrenn would ever have returned to the Zapps' had he not promised to see Charley there.

Even while he was carrying his suit-case down West Sixteenth, broiling by degrees in the suns.h.i.+ne, he felt like rus.h.i.+ng up to Charley's and telling him to come to the hotel instead.

Lee Theresa, taking the day off with a headache, answered the bell, and e.j.a.c.u.l.a.t.ed:

"Well! So it's you, is it?"

"I guess it is."

"What, are you back so soon? Why, you ain't been gone more than a month and a half, have you?"

Beware, daughter of Southern pride! The little Yankee is regarding your full-blown curves and empty eyes with rebellion, though he says, ever so meekly: