We were all getting along great; everybody was calling Alice by her first name, and Alice was saying, "I'll leave it to Bill if it ain't right," and speaking of Manager Frohman as Charley, when Johnny Black, the president of all the trouble-makers, spoiled the whole business. It appears that Alice's eyelids were slightly granulated. It was barely noticeable, and nobody but a dog like Johnny would have mentioned such a thing. Anyway, Johnny suggested that the lady's granulated eyelids were probably caused by looking for a rise in "Sugar." Jim, you should have seen Alice go up! Johnny certainly cut her weights fine and proper. Of course, Johnny was batting under two hundred, but for some unknown reason we all got the blue pencil. She called Johnny an illy bred, low- born, undersized, cavery-faced Protestant pup. Johnny was so excited he couldn't get back at all. He just sputtered and spit and made motions with his mouth. It was grand and touching and refined. I cut in and tried to square it, and the lady told me I was a spangle-eyed big dub. I'll bet that's one of the worst things a fellow can be. Dick was then told what he was, and he put it down in a book, after which Alice finished it all up with a flood of tears. The head waiter came up and said: "Look a here, Mary, what ails you, anyway? You're getting so lately you turn them tears on every night. Be a good fellow, and don't make a lot of gents think we're running a morgue. You've blowed half your make-up as it is." Mary, alias Alice, gave the head waiter one withering look, and left the place. We started to move on, but found it was impossible to bring old K. C. back. We pounded him and yelled at him for ten minutes, but there wasn't a leaf stirring, except once, when he came to long enough to remark that he was sweating like a June bride. We finally took his watch and all his money but two dollars, and left him like a dog. A fellow is perfectly safe in New York without any money.