"Not so you can notice it. Watch me, Doll!" He hailed a passing cab with
a double flourish of cane and half lifted her in, his fingers closing
tight over her arm. "Little Doll, now I got you! And we understand one
another, don't we, Doll?"
"Yes, Jimmie."
She leaned back, quiescent, nor did his hold of her relax. A fairy
etching of snow whitened the windows and wind-shield, and behind their
security he leaned closer until she could feel the breath of his smile.
"Doll, we sure understand each other, don't we, sweetness? Eh? Answer
me, sweetness, don't we? Eh? Eh?"
"Yes, Jimmie."
Over the city bells tolled of Christmas.
* * * * *
The gentle Hestia of Christmas Eve snug beside her hearth, with little
stockings dangling like a badly matched row of executed soldiers,
the fire sinking into embers to facilitate the epic descent from
the chimney, the breathing of dreaming children trembling for their
to-morrow--this gentle Hestia of a thousand, thousand Christmas Eves was
not on the pay-roll of Maxwell's thousand-dollar-a-week cabaret.
A pandering management, with its finger ever on the thick wrist of its
public, substituted for the little gray lady of tradition the glittering
novelty of full-lipped bacchantes whose wreaths were grape, and
mistletoe commingling with the grape.
An electric fountain shot upward its iridescent spray, now green, now
orange, now violet, and rained down again upon its own bosom and into a
gilt basin shaped like a grotto with the sea weeping round it. And out
of its foam, wraithlike, rose a marble Aphrodite, white limbed, bathed
in light.
On the topmost of a flight of marble steps a woman sang of love who had
defiled it. At candle-shaded tables thick tongues wagged through thick
aromas and over thick foods, and as the drama was born rhythmic out of
the noisy dithyramb, so through these heavy discords rose the tink of
Venetian goblets, thin and pure--the reedy music of grinning Pan blowing
his pipes.
Rose-colored light lay like a blush of pleasure over a shining table
spread beside the coping of the fount. A captain bowed with easy
recognition and drew out two chairs. A statue-like waiter, born but to
obey and, obeying, sweat, bowed less easy recognition and bent his spine
to the backaching, heartbreaking angle of servitude. And through the
gleaming maze of tables, light-footed as if her blood were foaming, Mrs.
Violet Smith, tossing the curling ribbon of a jest over one shoulder.
Following her Mr. Jimmie Fitzgibbons, smiling.
"Here, sit on this side of the table, Doll, so you can see the big
show."
"Gee!"
"It's the best table in the room to see the staircase dancing."
"Gee!"
"Told you I was going to show you a classy time to-night, didn't I,
Doll?"
"Yeh, but--but I ain't dressed for a splash like this, Jimmie, I--I
ain't."
"Say, they know me round here, Doll. They know I'd fall for a pair of
eyes like yourn, if you was doing time on a rock-pile and I had to bring
you in stripes."
"I'm--a--sight!"
"If you wasn't such a little pepper-box I'd blow you to a feather or
two."
"Ain't no pepper-box!"
"You used to be, Doll. Two years back there wasn't a girl behind the
counter ever gimme the cold storage like you did. I liked your nerve,
too, durned if I didn't!"
"I--I only thought you was guyin'."
"I 'ain't forgot, Doll, the time I asked you out to dinner one night
when you was lookin' pretty blue round the gills, and you turned me down
so hard the whole department gimme the laugh. It's a good thing I 'ain't
got no hard feelings."
"Honest, Jimmie, I--"
"That was just before you stole the march on me with the Charley from
the gents' furnishing. I ain't holding it against you, Doll, but you
gotta be awful nice to me to make up for it, eh?"
A shower of rose-colored rain from the fountain threw its soft blush
across her face.
"Aw, Jimmie, don't rub it in! Ain't I tryin' hard enough to--to square
myself? I--I was crazy with the heat two years ago. I--aw, I--Now
it's different. I--It's like you say, Jimmie, you 'ain't got no hard
feelings." She swallowed a rising in her throat and took a sip of clear,
cold water. A light film of tears swam in her eyes. "You 'ain't, have
you, Jimmie?"
He leaned across the table and out of the hearing of the attendant
waiter. "Not if we understand each other, Doll. You stick to me and
you'll wear diamonds. Gad! I bet if I had two more fillies like Violet
I'd run Diamond Pat Cassidy's string of favorites back to pasture, you
little queenie, you!"
Her timid glance darted like the hither and thither of a wind-blown
leaf. "I ain't much of a looker for a Broadway palace like you've
brought me to, Jimmie. Look at 'em, all dolled up over there. Honest,
Jimmie, I--I feel ashamed."
"Just you stick to me, peaches, and there ain't one at that table that's
got on anything you can't have twice over. I know that gang--the pink
queen and all. 'Longside of you they look like stacks o' bones tied up
in a rag o' satin."
"Aw, Jimmie, look at 'em, so blond and all!"
"They're a broken-winded bunch. Look at them bottles on their table!
We're going to have twice as many and only one color in our glasses,
kiddo. Yellow, the same yellow as your hair, the kinda yellow that's
mostly gold. That's the kind of bubble water we're going to buy, kiddo!"
"Jimmie, such a spender!"
"That's me!"
"It's sure like the girls say--the sky's your limit."
"Look, Doll, there's the swellest little dancer in this town--one
swell little pal and a good sport. Watch her, kiddo--watch her do that
staircase dance. Ain't she a lalapaloo!"
A buxom nymph of the grove, whose draperies floated from her like
flesh-colored mist, spun to the wild passion of violins up the eight
marble steps of the marble flight. A spotlight turned the entire range
of the spectrum upon her. She was like a spinning tulip, her draperies
folding her in a cup of sheerest petals, her limbs shining through.
"Classy, ain't she, Doll?"
"Well, I guess!"
"Wanna meet her? There ain't none of 'em that 'ain't sat at my table
many a time."
"I like it better with just you, Jimmie."
"Sweetness, don't you look at me like that or you'll get me so mixed up
I'll go out and buy the Metropolitan Tower for your Christmas present.
Whatta you want for Christmas--eh, Doll?"
"Aw, Jimmie, I don't want nothing. I 'ain't got no right to take nothing
from you!" She played with the rich, unpronounceable foods on her plate
and took a swallow of golden liquid to wash down her fiery confusion.
"I--'ain't got no right."
"When I get to likin' a little girl there ain't nothing she 'ain't got a
right to."
"Aw, Jimmie, when you talk like that I feel so--so--"
"So what, Doll?"
"So--so--"
"Gowann, Doll."
"Aw, I can't say it. You'll think I'm fresh."
But she regarded him with the nervous eyes of a gazelle and the red swam
high up into her hair, and he drained his glass down to the bottom of
its hollow stem and leaned his warming face closer.
"You treat me white, sweetness, and understand me right, and you won't
be sorry for nothing you say. Drink, Doll, drink to you 'n' me--you 'n'
me."
Their bubble-thin glasses met in a tink and a pledge and her ready
laughter rose in duet with his. She caught the lilt of a popular song
from, the tenpiece orchestra and sang upward with the tirralirra of
a lark, and the group at the adjoining table threw her a shout. Mr.
Fitzgibbons beat a knife-and-fork tattoo on his plate and pinched her
cheek lightly, gritting his teeth in a fine frenzy of delight.
"That's the way to make 'em sit up and take notice, Doll, that's the way
I like 'em. Live! As live and frisky as colts!"
An attendant placed a souvenir of the occasion beside her plate--a white
wool bear, upright and with bold bead eyes and a flare of pink bow
beneath its chin.
"Oh-h-h!"
"See, Doll, a Teddy bear! By Gad! a Teddy bear with his arms stretched
out to hug her! Gad! if I was that Teddy I'd hug the daylight out of
her, too! Gad! wouldn't I!"
Mrs. Violet Smith wafted the bead-eyed toy a kiss, then slapped him
sharply sidewise, toppling him in a heap, and her easy laughter mingled
with her petulance.
"I wanna big grizzly, Jimmie; a great big brown grizzly bear with a
grin. I wanna big brown grizzly."
"'Ain't you got one, Doll? A little white one with a pink bow. Here,
let's give him a drink!"
But the petulance grew upon her, nor would she be gainsaid. "I wanna big
brown grizzly--a great big brown one with a grin."
"Aw, Doll, look at this little white one--a classy little white one.
Look at his nose, cutie, made out of a button. Look, ain't that some
nose! Look, ain't--"
"A big brown one that I can dance with, Jimmie. I wanna dance. Gee! who
could dance with a little dinky devil like that! I wanna dance, Jimmie,
honest I could dance with a great big brown one if he was big enough.
I--Gee, I wanna dance. Jimmie, honest, I could dance with a great big
brown one if he was big enough. I--Gee! I wanna dance, Jimmie! Gee, I
wanna--"
He whacked the table and flashed the twinkle of a wink to the waiter.
"Gad! Doll, if you look at me with them frisky eyes I--"
"I wanna bear, Jimmie, a great big brown--"
"Waiter!"
"A great big brown one, Jimmie, with a grin. Tell him a great big brown
one!"
"Waiter, that ain't no kind of a souvenir to bring a lady--a cheap bunch
o' wool like that. Bring her a great big brown one--"
"A great big brown one with a grin, tell him, Jimmie."
"We have no brown ones, sir; only the small white ones for the ladies."
"Get one, then! Get out and buy the biggest one they got on Broadway.
Get out and get one then!"
"But, sir, the--"
"If the stores ain't open, bust 'em open! I ain't the best customer this
joint has got not to get service when my lady friend wants to dance with
a great big brown bear. If my lady friend can't get a great big brown
bear--"
"With a grin, Jimmie."
"--with a grin, there are other places where she can get two great big
brown bears if she wants 'em."
"I'll see, sir. I'll see what I can do."
Mr. Fitzgibbons brought a fist down upon the table so that the dishes
rattled and the wine lopped out of the glasses. "Sure you'll see, and
quick, too! A great big brown bear, d'you hear? My lady friend wants to
dance, don't you, Doll? You wanna dance, and nothing but a great big
brown bear won't do--eh, Doll?"
"With a grin, Jimmie!"
"With a grin, d'ye hear?" He whacked at her hand in delight and they
laughed in right merry duet.
"Oh, Jimmie, you're killing!"
"The sky's my limit!"
She nibbled at a peach whose cheeks were pink as her own, and together
from the great overflowing bowl of fruits they must trim her hat with
its boyish brim. First, a heavy bunch of black hothouse grapes that she
pinned deftly to the crown, a cluster of cherries, a purple plum, a
tangerine stuck at a gay angle. They surveyed their foolish labor of
caprice with little rills of laughter that rose and fell, and when
she replaced her hat the cherries bobbed and kissed her cheek and the
adjoining group leaned to her in the kinship of merriment.
"It's a sweller trimming than I gave it last Tuesday, Jimmie. Look how
tight it's all pinned on. Look at the cherries! I'm going to blow 'em
right off and then eat 'em--eat 'em! Pf-f-f-f!"
She made as if to catch them with pursed lips, but they bobbed sidewise,
and he regarded her with a swelling pride, then glanced about the room,
pleased at the furor that followed her little antics.
"Gad, Doll, you're a winner! I can pick 'em every time! You ain't dolled
up like the rest of 'em, but you're a winner!"
"Oh-oh-oh!"
"That's the ticket, waiter! I knew there wasn't nothing round here that
tin wouldn't buy. I guess that ain't some great big brown grizzly with a
grin for you, Doll!"
"Oh-oh-oh!"
"I guess they didn't rustle round when your Uncle Fuller began to get
sore, and get a great big brown one for you! Gad! the biggest I ever
seen--almost as big as you, Doll! That's the ticket! There ain't
anything in this town tin can't buy!"
"Oh-oh-oh!" She lifted the huge toy off the silver tray held out to her
and buried her shining face in the soft, silky wool. "Ain't he a beauty?
Ain't he the softest, brownest beauty?"
"Now, peaches, now cherries, now you little fancy-fruit stand, there
goes the music. Let's see that dance!"
"Aw, Jimmie, I--I was only kiddin'!"
"Kiddin' nothing! Come now, Doll, I blew me ten bucks if I blew me a
cent for that bunch of wool. Come now, let's see that dance you been
blowing about! Go as far as you like, Doll!"
"I--honest, I was only guyin', Jimmie."
"Don't be a quitter and make me sore, Doll! I wanna show 'em I pick the
live ones every time. There's the music!"
"Aw, I--"
"Go as far as you like, Doll. Here, gimme your hat! Go to it, sister. If
you land in the fountain by mistake I'll blow you to the swellest new
duds on the Avenue."
"I don't know no dances no more, Jimmie. I--I can't dance with this big
old thing anyways. Look, he's almost as big as me!"
"Go it alone, then, Doll; but get up and show 'em. Get up and show 'em
that I don't pick nothing but the livest! Get up and show 'em, Doll; get
up and show 'em!"
She set down her glass suddenly and pirouetted to her feet.
"Here--I--go--Jimmie!"
"Go to it, Doll!"
She leaped forward in her narrow little skirt, laughing. Chairs scraped
back and a round of applause went with her. Knives and forks beat tattoo
on frail glasses; a tinsel ball flung from across the room fell at her
feet. She stooped to it, waved it, and pinned it to her bosom. Her hair,
rich as Australian gold, half escaped its chignon and lay across her
shoulders. She danced light as the breeze up the marble stairway, and at
its climax the spotlight focused on her, covering her with the sheen of
mica; then just as lightly down the steps again, so rapidly that her
hair was tossed outward in a fairy-like effect of spun gold.
"Go to it, Doll. I'm here to back you!"
"Dare me, Jimmie?"
"Dare what?"
"Dare me?"
"Yeh, I dare you to do anything your little heart desires. Gad!
you--Gad! if she 'ain't!"
Like a bird in flight she danced to the gold coping, paused like an
audacious Undine in a moment of thrilled silence, and then into the
purple and gold, violet and red rain of the electric fountain, her arms
outstretched in a radiant _tableau vivant_, water crowding in about her
knees, spray dancing on her upturned face.
"Gad! the little daredevil! I didn't think she had it in her. Gad! the
little devil!"