"Wal, in Noo York, folks drop 'round that--a-way," she answers. "It's Bohemia." "Bohemia--you mean a kinda free hand-out." "Alec! _No!_ Bohemians divvy with each other." "Seem's t' me Macie Sewell does _most_ of the divvyin'." "You don't understand," she says. "People with artistic temper'ments don't think about such--such common things." "No? Just the same, that artistic team of yourn was shore stuck on boiled aigs." That ruffled her up some. "Alec," she says, "you mustn't run down the Perfessor. He's a big musician." "Wal," I answers, "if hair makes a big musician, 'Pache Sam oughta lead the band." "And he's been awful good to me. Why, he's let go dozens and _dozens_ of rich pupils to come here ev'ry day and give me my lesson." "Fer how much?" "What?" She got red. "Fer how much?" I ast again. "Five dollars," she answers. I snickered. "But he charges all the others _ten,_" she puts in quick. "He come down in the price 'cause he was so wrapped up in my _ca_reer." "Money lastin'?" I ast, and looked at the ole lady. She give me the high sign. But Macie answered cheerful. "It's carried me good so far," she says; "and after t'-night I can stand on my own feet." "Reckon you won't mind my comin' t' hear you," I says. ('Cause I'd got a' idear what I was goin' to do.) She said come ahaid. Then I skun out. First off, I hunted one of them sun-bonnet keeriges. The feller that owned it was h'isted 'way up on top, and he had a face like a cured ham. I tole him who I was goin' t' visit, and ast him what 'd be the damage if he carted me that far. He said a two spot 'd do the trick, so I clumb in, he give his broomtail a lick, and we was off in a bunch. Wal, fer the balance of that day, you can bet I didn't let no grass sprout under _my_ moccasins. And when I turned up, 'twixt eight and nine o'clock at that _re_cital, I was a-smilin' like Teddy--and loaded fer bear! It was at Long-Hair's shebang. He took me into a big room where they was about a dozen ladies and gents. But I couldn't hardly see 'em. They was plenty of gas fixin's, only he had 'em turned 'way down, and little red parasol-jiggers over 'em. And they was some punk-sticks a-burnin' in a corner. If you want t' ast _me,_ I think I hit the funny spot of that bunch right good and hard. The women kinda giggled at each other, and the men cocked they eyes at the ceilin' and put they hands to they mouths. But I wasn't nigh as big a freak to them as they was t' _me!_ "Say!" I says to Macie, 'way low, "where 'd you round up this passel of what-is-its?" "Ssh!" she whispers back. "They'll hear you! Most of 'em is big artists." "No!" I got turrible solemn. "Have they brought they temper'ments with 'em?" She laughed. "Now, don't devil me, Alec," she says. "But honest, ain't this Bohemian atmosphere just grand?" "Wal," I says, sniffin' it, "it reminds _me_ of a Chinee wash-house."