"Oh, I have a 'hunch' you'll 'clean up,'" said Wyeth with feigned admiration. "You sold a book to somebody I know on Fourteenth Street....," he smiled. "I thought you said I sold to many you know. I think I did," said Wyeth innocently. "I know this one a little _better_ than the rest," he admitted, now showing his teeth, despite his effort to keep his upper lip stiff. "Oh--ho, I see now," laughed Wyeth, good naturedly. After a pause he said: "Who is she? Come, 'fess up. At what number does she work?" But at this Slim only laughed, and left his friend curious. That afternoon, at two o'clock sharp, they sallied forth. Going to Dalton street, they entered a cafe conducted by some people in the last stage of hook-worm hustle. "What'll you genamens have?" asked the waitress, who looked so tired and sleepy. Sidney scanned the greasy bill-of-fare, while Slim inquired: "What have you?" As she drawled out the list, Sidney's ears came attentive to the orders being given by others. "Snout." "Yo's, mistah!" "Pig tail 'n' swee' taters." "'N' yo's?" "Stewed haid." "Ah wan' some magetti," sang a small boy on a stool, with papers under his arm. "Gimme a yeah sanrich," from one with a very loud mouth. Slim was very hard to please, as it now appeared, and was having some difficulty in being satisfied. "What is your specialty here?" "Ah don' tole you du' ohdahs already. We has hog year, 'n' hog snoot, 'n' pig tail, 'n' collap greens, 'n'--" "Give us a pair of feet," interposed Wyeth. After the meal, they turned into a side street, crossed a back yard and entered a house from the rear. Ahead, a flight of steps led up through the basement, to the kitchen. Up this they went, and rapped on the kitchen door. It was opened by a woman, presumably the cook. Wyeth raised his hat, while Slim did likewise; whereupon she was very much flattered. Said Wyeth: "Yes, ma'am! How-do-you-do. You will pardon our interrupting you, but I suppose you are the lady employed herein," and gazed into the kitchen before him. "Yes," she replied embarrassed. "I work here." "Very well, thank you." Then turning, he revealed his honor, bending almost to the floor. "This is Professor Coleman!" Their prospective customer was very profuse as she accepted the introduction, and then was curious to know to whom she was indebted. Presently, unable to withstand the wait, she inquired: "Are you preachers?" Wyeth looked at Slim who had his hat rolled up, and was showing his teeth, then turned back to the lady and replied that they were not. He then, without further ado, began his spiel, putting more dynamite into it than usual, since he wished to make an impression upon Slim as well. "I presume from your English, madam, that you are literarily inclined, in fact, I feel certain you are." He bestowed upon her a hypnotic smile, which he had cultivated for the purpose of impression, and then went on, with eloquence: