(xx) Prettiest Eye Contest

Well sir, it's about two thirty o'clock in the afternoon as our scene opens now, and here in the living room of the small house halfway up in the next block we find seed in young Russell.

The former is established in Vixeezy Chair, Crocheng, and the letter, gelatinously, a fourth of Davenport, chatters away about nothing in particular. Listen. You know I enjoy an occasion of day like this during summer vacation. Most days during summer vacation I'm busy as a horse. I got forty different plans lined up.

But every once in a while, like this afternoon, for instance, I find myself completely in liberty. I can lay back and take it easy. Hey, stuff you could be doing, huh? Could they mop half a dozen jobs around the house?

Well, don't do it. Don't even name one job. You destroy my lazy mental condition, make me uneasy. You're groceries already? Uh-huh. Heard the kitchen door opened. Yes, groceries, you, Herman! I hope so. Well, gov.

Bye! You got the voice of my darling, you get a russin' there? Where's your voice, my darling, in a statey? Hi. I bet we have to carry out of here. I bet he's brought work home from the office.

I bet you're wrong. He sounds too jolly. He brings work home from the office. He's kind of grouchy. Are you saying those harsh, cruel things about your parole papa wrestle? Sure. I shall go pitch myself a Miller Park Lake.

Then you'll be sorry. How are you, Mrs. Good? All right. I bet you're dying to know why I leave the office and come home at 2.30 in the afternoon. Yeah? Well, I mean again, how to get in finish.