(xx) Midsummer Madness

Well, sir, it's about the middle of the afternoon as we enter the small house halfway up in the next block now. And here in the living room we find Mrs. Victor Cook called by herself.

Mrs. Cook is at the telephone and earned his conversation with her close friend and confidante, Mrs. Frederick Stembot. Gee, Ruthie, do you think that was wise? It's none of my business of course, and you probably don't want any two cents worth for me, but now you have to trace care over to Mulberry Street for your grocery.

Yes. Oh, it does the second lady. I think I hear somebody in my kitchen. Hello, Croucher. Is that you, Irvin? Well, it's me, Miss Book. Orville? Yeah. All right. It's the gas meter reader bar, Ruthie. Yeah, orville we need.

No, go ahead with what you were saying. Just been enjoying a deeply satisfactory snooze. I closed my eyes and folded my hands on my stomach and let my tongue drool out of the corner of my mouth, easy and relaxed and slept.

I'm on the telephone here, Arvel. Excuse me, please, till I get finished. Excuse me. I'm the fat head of the deal. I never noticed you were talking on a phone. Maybe I'm still asleep. Well, Jay, Ruthie, I think I try to make it up with Mr.

You don't want to trade fall over town for your groceries. You're carzing, tricking your business and not my place to try to give advice. What? Send me at your front door. We'll run along. Sure, and maybe we'll talk to more later.

You bet. Alrighty, Rudy. You betty lady. Goodbye. Well, how are you, Arville? Well, I'm in number one condition, Miss Gluck. book. My brain just drink back sogging and collapsed inside my skull and I got absolutely nothing on my mind. Did I hear you say you'd been asleep? I've been dead to the world for the last hour and a half. Well where'd you take your nice