"Yuh, I guess that was it. Do you remember how you gave us an imitation of him telling the class that if they'd work like sixty they might get to be little tin gods on wheels like himself, and how he'd always keep dropping his eye-glasses and fishing 'em up on a cord while he was talking--don't you remember how you took him off? Why, I thought Mrs. Hunt-that-is--I've forgotten what her name was before Sandy married her--why, I thought she'd split, laughing. She admired you a whole pile, lemme tell you; I could see that." Not unwelcome to the ears of Una was this praise, but she was properly deprecatory: "Why, she probably thought I was just a stuffy, stupid, ugly old thing, as old as--" "As old as Eddie Schwirtz, heh? Go on, insult me! I can stand it! Lemme tell you I ain't forty-three till next October. Look here now, little sister, I know when a woman admires another. Lemme tell you, if you'd ever traveled for dry-goods like I did, out of St. Paul once, for a couple of months--nev-er again; paint and varnish is good enough for Eddie any day--and if you'd sold a bunch of women buyers, you'd know how they looked when they liked a thing, alrightee! Not that I want to knock The Sex, y' understand, but you know yourself, bein' a shemale, that there's an awful lot of cats among the ladies--God bless 'em--that wouldn't admit another lady was beautiful, not if she was as good-looking as Lillian Russell, corking figger and the swellest dresser in town." "Yes, perhaps--sometimes," said Una. She did not find Mr. Schwirtz dull. "But I was saying: It was a cinch to see that Sandy's girl thought you was ace high, alrightee. She kept her eyes glommed onto you all the time." "But what would she find to admire?" "Uh-huh, fishing for compliments!" "No, I am _not_, so there!" Una's cheeks burned delightfully. She was back in Panama again--in Panama, where for endless hours on dark porches young men tease young women and tell them that they are beautiful.... Mr. Schwirtz was direct and "jolly," like Panama people; but he was so much more active and forceful than Henry Carson; so much more hearty than Charlie Martindale; so distinguished by that knowledge of New York streets and cafés and local heroes which, to Una, the recent convert to New York, seemed the one great science. Their rockers creaked in complete sympathy. The perfect summer man took up his shepherd's tale: "There's a whole lot of things she'd certainly oughta have admired in you, lemme tell you. I suppose probably Maxine Elliott is better-looking than what you are, maybe, but I always was crazy over your kind of girl--blond hair and nice, clear eyes and just shoulder-high--kind of a girl that could snuggle down beside a fireplace and look like she grew there--not one of these domineerin' sufferin' cats females. No, nor one of these overdressed New-York chickens, neither, but cute and bright--" "Oh, you're just flattering me, Mr. Schwirtz. Mr. Hunt told me I should watch out for you."