"All right. Where is it?" Sarah pointed it out: TABLE D'HÔTE $1.50 Peter had a notion she was trying to save his money, and he liked her for it, but he wasn't looking to save money. He pointed out various things on the other side of the bill, picking out always the high-priced ones, but Sarah shook her head. She always preferred the "tarble dote" to ordering à la carte. The waiter approached. "What to drink?" he asked briskly. "Nothing to drink," answered Peter, and, pointing out the caption, Table D'Hôte $1.50, said "Two." "Two what?" asked the waiter. "Why, two of what it says--two tarble dotes." "And what drinks did you say?" The waiter bent a confidential ear and scratched his head with his pencil while he waited. Peter looked up at the ear; then he stretched up and whispered into it: "Ever hear of the _Boundin' Biller_, Captain Hanks?" "The _Boundin' Biller_?" Well, all kinds of queer ones blow into restaurants--the waiter slewed his head round, looked at Peter, put his ear down, and whispered back: "What about it?" And Peter whispered up into the waiting ear: "The _Boundin' Biller_, Captain Hanks, She was hove flat down on th' Western Banks." "Huh!" The waiter slewed his head round again to have another look, which pulled his ear out of position and forced Peter to raise his voice. "He had the greatest ear, that Captain Hanks," explained Peter. "He could hear a sound when no other mortal ever sailed a vessel could. He heard a steamer's whistle in a gale o' wind and fog one time, and--runnin' fair before the wind at the time he was--he jibed her over, and o' course you know what happens to a vessel that's runnin' with her main sheet to the knot an' somebody jibes her over all standin'?" The waiter stared with increasing doubt at Peter. "Captain Hanks had nothing on you for hearing," explained Peter. "I said no drinks." "Oh, oh, excuse me! I begin to get yuh now. No drinks," and the waiter retreated and returned in silence, but with the food. Two women on a platform, one very stout and one very thin, danced and sang; and then they half-wiggled and half-danced in and out among the tables. Here and there they chucked a chin or kissed a bald head, and one, on invitation, sat on a man's knee and had a sip of wine with him. Sarah herself was knots prettier than either of the singing girls--Peter could see that--and she was dressed pretty, too. He didn't know what kind of stuff it was she was wearing, except that it was a kind of slaty sea-gray color and fitted snug. And she had a hat that was shaped like a little capsized dory and listed to starboard, just about the same list a vessel takes when she puts her scuppers under to a light breeze.