Little O'Grady was celebrated for keeping the most untidy and harum-scarum quarters throughout the entire Rabbit-Hutch, and for being wholly beyond the reach of reproof or the range of intimidation. The stately sobriety of Dill's studio had no deterring effect upon him. Nothing could impress him; nobody could repress him. He said just what he thought to anybody and everybody, and acted just as he felt wherever he happened to be. Just now he felt like dancing a jig--and did so. "But, dear me, where do _you_ come in?" asked Dill, moving his easel a bit farther out of Little O'Grady's range. "Where do I come in? Everywhere. I come in on the capitals of the columns round that court, which will all be modelled after special designs of me own----" "I hadn't heard about them. I should suppose such things would follow established patterns." "So does the architect. But I shall convince him yet that he's mistaken." O'Grady gave a pirouette in recognition of his own powers of persuasion. "And I come in on the mantel-piece in the president's private parlour," he continued. "It will be a low relief in bronze: 'The Genius of the West Lighting the Way to Further Progress,' or else, 'Commerce and Finance Uniting to Do Something or Other'--don't know what just yet, but shall hit on some notion or other in due time----" "You've seen the plans, then? You've been striking up an acquaintance with the architect himself?" Dill frowned repugnance upon such a bit of indelicacy, such an indifference to professional etiquette. "Well, perhaps I have. Why not? But if there's a president--I s'pose there is?" "I suppose so." "Then there'll sure be a parlour. And where there's a parlour there's a fireplace--see? A large official cavern with never any fire in it. And I come in on the drinking-fountains at each side of the main entrance: bronze dolphins twisted upside down and spouting water into marble basins." "They're included too, are they?" "Well, I suggested them. Don't those old coupon-clippers ever get thirsty? Sure they do. Well, can't I wet their whistles for them? I guess yes--and I told 'em so." "Them? Whom?" "The directors." "You've seen them?" "I attended a meeting of the board, as I suppose I might as well tell you," said Little O'Grady grandly. "You did, eh?" returned Dill, balanced between reprobation of Little O'Grady's push and admiration for his nerve. "Yep. I spoke a good word for myself. And one for the others--Gowan and Giles and you and Stalinski and----" "Um," said Dill, none too well pleased. The last thing he desired was co-operation from the Rabbit-Hutch and association with the band of erratic, happy-go-lucky Bohemians that peopled it. "You're laying out a good deal of work for yourself," he remarked coldly, dismissing the Bunnies.