' Bing! Skyrockets! Wilbur goes up in the air and comes down all
spraddled out.
"'What!' he pipes, as soon as he got his breath, 'my financed bride
billed to appear in a hugging handicap? Not yet! Sabrina you certainly
do jag my jib to think that you would enter into such a deal. From now
on our trail parts.' 'Oh, I don't know,' I said. 'What's sauce for the
goose is sauce for the gander, and if you pull off any stunts you can
figure that I will be in the running. And that goes as it lays.'
"That was no nice language for a lady, but it put the brakes on Wilbur's
osculatory aspirations so quick that he stopped with a jolt. He canceled
the date and we went up into the box and stood in the receiving line for
wine agents.
"Wilbur knew that he had to stand hitched or I wouldn't let him go to
the Twenty-three Club dinner tonight. He has been training for the event
for the last two weeks, and he says that he will be able to outdistance
the bunch before 4 a.m., and you know that's going some.
"It's a pity they wouldn't let us women in on their feed deals. They go
out and fill up on beefsteak while we have to stick around and drown our
sorrows in a cheese sandwich. And goodness knows that while they are
nourishing they don't give you any new ideas.
"I only hope our show is a success, for if Wilbur and I get married
every penny will help, and I don't want to lance my personal fresh air
fund for anything more than a bridal veil.
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