Llewellyn Shortbrow made a mistake with his machine and ran across a stranger, hitting him just between the wish-bone and the Casino. The stranger's leg was broken, which put the laugh on Llewellyn. The next evening Cecil Vanwigglevandoozen gave us one of the most delightful experiences I have ever known. It was a monkey dinner. A monkey dinner consists of a happy mixture of Society and monkey--with just a trifle more Society than monkey to give it the proper flavor. The idea of the monkey dinner originated in a fertile spot in the southeastern part of Vanwigglevandoozen's brain, which up to then was supposed to be extinct. The eruption of such a gigantic idea from a brain supposed to be extinct came as a great but pleasant shock to Society. Originally it was Vanwigglevandoozen's idea to have Clarence Fussyface play the monkey, because Clarence's intelligence is built on a plan to suggest such mimicry, but a hand-organ proprietor by the name of Guissepi, who is summering at Newport, came to the rescue with a real monkey by the name of Claude. Claude has acted for many years as a second-story man for Guissepi, and is one of the very best ice-cutters in the whole monkey business. A full dress suit was made for Claude, and when he entered Society you could tell at once that he was not a waiter. Claude was placed at the head of the table, and as he sat there smiling at his friends it made one of the sweetest pictures of family contentment I have ever witnessed. There were no set speeches. Vanwigglevandoozen gave Claude a glass of champagne, which the guest of honor politely refused by spilling it down the neck of Harry Pifflemind in such an artless monkey way that the other guests roared with delight. With monkey signs Claude gave the signal to rush the growler, which was accompanied with a true spirit of goodfellowship by the butler. The conversation during the dinner hour was altogether of a zoological nature. Claude displayed an acrobatic appetite and went down the line, from soup to nuts, in a manner which was captivating in the extreme. After completely filling the large inside pocket originally built for him by Mother Nature, Claude began to put the knives and forks in the pockets of his full dress suit. This was greeted with ringing cheers from those present. The only break that Claude made during the dinner was trying to put his feet on the table before the ladies left the room, but Llewellyn Shortbrow remedied this by hitting Claude on the chest with a table spoon. When the other young men began to smoke their cigarettes Claude grew uneasy. After they had consumed about seven sticks apiece Claude buried his face in a foaming stein of beer, and there it remained until a happy unconsciousness put him down and out. Eight footmen, six coachmen, twenty-seven valets and the butler carried Claude to his bed-chamber, and the monkey dinner broke up with loud cries of "Author! Author! Author!"