"Don't get catty, dear," says the wife, still featurin' that million dollar smile. "Hurry, there goes the bell again. You really should put on your collar and tie before answering the door, too." "Who d'ye think is payin' us a call--Wilson?" I says. "I ain't supposed to wear a dress suit in to breakfast, am I?" They is no answer from the trenches across the table, outside of the munchin' of food, and as our door bell is makin' the telephone green with envy from the way it was ringin', I went out and opened the portals to our flat. In comes Alex the Great, undisputed champion pest of the world. He throws his hat on the sofa, kisses the wife, pulls a chair up to the table and reaches over for the paper. Every one of them things is sure fire for gettin' my goat! "No wonder you people never get nowheres!" he remarks. "Sleepin' away half the day. Here it is eleven o'clock and you just havin' breakfast! I was up at six, had a ice cold bath and walked ten miles." "I wish you had of made it eleven!" I says. "Why?" he asks me. "Because," I says, "that would of brung you a even two blocks past our house and I could of had my breakfast in peace." "How often have I told you that I don't come here to see you?" he snarls. "If it wasn't for Cousin Alice, I'd never come near your flat!" "You stayed away a month once," I says, "and she managed to keep out of the hospitals." "Oh, hush!" says the wife. "You boys are always snappin' at each other. A outsider would think you was in business together or something. How is everything, Alex?" "Fine!" he says, rubbin' his hands together and castin' a hungry eye over the bacon and eggs. "I already had a breakfast fit for a king, but the early mornin' air gimme a fresh appetite. I think I could stand a little of that bacon and--" "They's only one piece left," I says, spearin' it with my fork. "Try and get it!" "Will you be still?" says the wife. "We have plenty in the ice box, Alex, if you want some." "Don't be blowin' about how much food we got in the ice box," I says. "They may be some spies from Hoover's office around." "That reminds me," says Alex, makin' the best of it by devourin' all the crackers and jam. "I expect to go to Washington this week and offer my services to Mister Hoover." "What was you thinkin' of doing for Mister Hoover, Alex?" says the wife. "I got a scheme for--," he begins, when I ceased firin' on the bacon and eggs and arose. "Listen!" I butts in. "I don't like to walk out in the middle of your act, Alex, but I gotta date. I have just bought a infielder from Jersey City which they tell me is a second Ty Cobb. The last guy which come recommended to me like that acted like hittin' the ball was a felony and he must of figured that droppin' grounders put Cobb over. I have give everything but the franchise for this new bird, and I wanna see right now if he's one of them things or a ball player."