This cluck, being of a timid nature, instead of running for the
ammonia, slammed the door and sprinted for the elevator. Alla, as soon
as the door closed, realized that she had been jilted, and resolving not
to be canned without a struggle, she threw on her pony coat over her
kimono, and pinning her hat roguishly over one ear, she fled the snare
and ran down eight flights of steps into the street, with two coon bell
boys after her. She turned into Broadway, going like Hose No. 7, with
her kimono streaming to the breeze, and ran all the way down to Rector's
and into the door before she was stopped by the head waiter. The two
bell boys caught up and loaded her into a cab before the police came and
managed to get her back up to the hotel, though the fight she put up was
a caution. Wine is sure a mocker and Scotch highballs is fierce.
"I heard from the folks in Emporia the other day and they are still
talking over the time I and the two guys in the automobile pulled off.
The minister sprung a long sermon on the effects of strong drink on the
young and the Emporia Wasp--you know they did call it the Bee, but the
guy that bought it from the Bee people renamed it the Wasp, because he
got stung worse than any bee could sting--the Emporia Wasp came out with
a long editorial about the profligate rich and the Attic Debating
Society had a big pow-wow in the basement of the church on the subject,
'Be it Resolved, That more people are killed by strong drink than by
hanging.
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