That shows the love of a good
woman.
"Was you at the Chorus Girls' Ball last Saturday night? My, I would
hate to cast any reflections on the judges, but their choice certainly
was bum. Still I suppose they are old men and not up on the modern 1908
rules on osculation.
"In their day when a young man imprinted a chaste salute on a dame's
alabaster forehead he was supposed to go into a fit of delight, but not
according to this year's book. Now they clinch with a strangle hold and
stick till one or the other drops from exhaustion. I did not enter the
contest, for I am not a chorus girl; I am a show girl, if you please.
What's the difference? Five a week.
"This kissing craze is getting to be something scandalous. Not that I
object to it. But I blush to think that the time-honored customs that
were once performed in the front parlor, with the gas turned low, is now
used in contests and numbered as a feat of strength.
"Wilbur and I went to the ball together, and as soon as he struck the
hut he wanted to rush right over and run a few trial heats with the
contestants, but the easy way with which I made him change his mind was
a joy to the eye. He said to me as we went in the door, I think I will
toddle over to the paddock and see if the fillies are in form. He was
making a wild rush to check his shawl when I mentioned casual like, as
if I wasn't noticing myself saying it, 'You know that I am an added
starter.
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