"Oh, there you are! Homer--I want an explanation."
"An explanation of what?"
"There is a person at the door who calls himself Bag Ears Mulligan. He
has the audacity to claim you invited him to--to this _brawl_ as he
terms it."
I must here explain--with sorrow--that my Aunt Gretchen is a snob. There
is no other term for it. It has gotten to be such a habit with her that
any friend of mine is automatically a person to be looked down on.
And Bag Ears Mulligan is one of my dearest friends. Of course I had
invited him to my wedding, and felt honored by his attendance. Bag Ears
is a habitue of one of the less glittering places I frequent in search
of lasting fellowship--Red Nose Tessie's Bar, to be exact. A place of
dirty beer glasses but of warm hearts and sincere people.
"I'll see this man, Aunt Gretchen," I said with calm dignity. "He is to
be an honored guest. While somewhat rugged in appearance, Bag Ears has a
sensitive nature and must be treated with understanding."
Aunt Gretchen's lips quivered. "Homer--I'm through--absolutely and
finally through! You can get someone else to handle your next wedding
reception. Hold it in a barn or a stable. Never again in my house."
After this tactless outburst, Aunt Gretchen came about and sailed out of
the conservatory. Joy and I followed wordlessly.
Upon arriving at the front door, we found Aunt Gretchen had spoken the
truth. Bag Ears was waiting there. He had been herded into a corner by
Johnson, Aunt Gretchen's stuffed shirt of a butler, who was standing
guard over him.
Bag Ears grinned happily when he caught sight of me and I smiled
reassuringly. While Bag Ears is not too richly endowed with good looks,
he has a great heart and at one time was possessed of a lightning-fast
brain. However, he took a great deal of punishment during his
unsuccessful climb toward the lightweight title, and his brain has been
slowed down to the point where it sometimes comes to a complete halt.
His features reflect the fury of a hundred battles in the squared ring.
They are in a sad state, his ears particularly. They hang wearily
downward like the leaves of a dying cabbage plant.
Also, Bag Ears has fallen into the misfortune of hearing bells at
various times--bells that exist only in his poor, bewildered mind. But
he is cheerful and warm-hearted nonetheless.
He said, "Homer, this character says I should o' brung along my invite.
But I don't remember you givin' me one. You just ast me to come."
"That is true," I returned, "and you are most welcome. You may go,
Johnson." I gave the butler a cold look and he stalked away.
* * * * *
I then introduced Bag Ears to my new bride. "This is Joy. I am certainly
a lucky man, Bag Ears. Isn't she the most beautiful thing you ever saw?"
Bag Ears was of course impressed. "Golly, what gams!" he breathed. His
eyes traveled upward and he said, "Golly, what--what things and stuff."
He came finally to her face. "Baby, you got it!"
Joy was rocked back on her heels. Caught unawares by the open admiration
in his eyes, she whispered, "Oh, my ancient step-ins!"
But she rallied like a thoroughbred and gave Bag Ears a dazzling smile.
"I'm delighted, Mr. Mulligan. Homer's friends are my friends--I
think--and I'm sure everything will turn out all right."