"Come to think of it," he says, "I believe they's one I forgot all
about."
And he moved us way up near the middle o' the place.
Say, you ought to seen that dinin'-room! From one end of it to the other
is a toll call, and if a man that was settin' at the table farthest from
the kitchen ordered roast lamb he'd get mutton. At that, they was
crowded for fair and it kept the head waiters hustlin' to find trough
space for one and all.
It was round nine o'clock when we put in our modest order for orange
juice, oatmeal, liver and bacon, and cakes and coffee, and a quarter to
ten or so when our waiter returned from the nearest orange grove with
Exhibit A. We amused ourself meanw'ile by givin' our neighbors the once
over and wonderin' which o' them was goin' to pal with us. As far as I
could tell from the glances we received, they wasn't no immediate danger
of us bein' annoyed by attentions.
They was only a few womenfolks on deck and they was dressed pretty
quiet; so quiet that the Missus was scared she'd shock 'em with the
sport skirt she'd bought in Chi. Later on in the day, when the girls
come out for their dress parade, the Missus' costume made about as much
noise as eatin' marshmallows in a foundry.
After breakfast we went to the room for a change o' raiment. I put on my
white trousers and wished to heaven that the sun'd go under a cloud till
I got used to tellin' people without words just where my linen began and
I left off. The rest o' my outfit was white shoes that hurt, and white
sox, and a two-dollar silk shirt that showed up a zebra, and a red tie
and a soft collar and a blue coat. The Missus wore a sport suit that I
won't try and describe--you'll probably see it on her sometime in the
next five years.
We went down-stairs again and out on the porch, where some o' the old
birds was takin' a sun bath.
"Where now?" I says.
"The beach, o' course," says the Missus.
"Where is it at?" I ast her.
"I suppose," she says, "that we'll find it somewheres near the ocean."
"I don't believe you can stand this climate," says I.
"The ocean," she says, "must be down at the end o' that avenue, where
most everybody seems to be headed."
"Havin' went to our room and back twice, I don't feel like another
five-mile hike," I says.
"It ain't no five miles," she says; "but let's ride, anyway."
"Come on," says I, pointin' to a street-car that was standin' in the
middle o' the avenue.
"Oh, no," she says. "I've watched and found out that the real people
takes them funny-lookin' wheel chairs."
I was wonderin' what she meant when one o' them pretty near run over us.
It was part bicycle, part go-cart and part African. In the one we dodged
they was room for one passenger, but some o' them carried two.
"I wonder what they'd soak us for the trip," I says.
"Not more'n a dime, I don't believe," says the Missus.
But when we'd hired one and been w'isked down under the palms and past
the golf field to the bath-house, we was obliged to part with fifty
cents legal and tender.
"I feel much refreshed," I says. "I believe when it comes time to go
back I'll be able to walk."
The bath-house is acrost the street from the other hotel, the Breakers,
that the man had told us was full for the season. Both buildin's fronts
on the ocean; and, boy, it's some ocean! I bet they's fish in there that
never seen each other!
"Oh, let's go bathin' right away!" says the Missus.
"Our suits is up to the other beanery," says I, and I was glad of it.
They wasn't nothin' temptin' to me about them man-eatin' waves.
But the Wife's a persistent cuss.
"We won't go to-day," she says, "but we'll go in the bath-house and get
some rooms for to-morrow."
The bath-house porch was a ringer for the _Follies_. Here and down on
the beach was where you seen the costumes at this time o' day. I was so
busy rubberin' that I passed the entrance door three times without
noticin' it. From the top o' their heads to the bottom o' their feet the
girls was a mess o' colors. They wasn't no two dressed alike and if any
one o' them had of walked down State Street we'd of had an epidemic o'
stiff neck to contend with in Chi. Finally the Missus grabbed me and
hauled me into the office.
"Two private rooms," she says to the clerk. "One lady and one gent."
"Five dollars a week apiece," he says. "But we're all filled up."
"You ought to be all locked up!" I says.
"Will you have anything open to-morrow?" ast the Missus.
"I think I can fix you then," he says.
"What do we get for the five?" I ast him.
"Private room and we take care o' your bathin' suit," says he.
"How much if you don't take care o' the suit?" I ast him. "My suit's
been gettin' along fine with very little care."
"Five dollars a week apiece," he says, "and if you want the rooms you
better take 'em, because they're in big demand."
By the time we'd closed this grand bargain, everybody'd moved offen the
porch and down to the water, where a couple dozen o' them went in for a
swim and the rest set and watched. They was a long row o' chairs on the
beach for spectators and we was just goin' to flop into two o' them when
another bandit come up and told us it'd cost a dime apiece per hour.
"We're goin' to be here two weeks," I says. "Will you sell us two
chairs?"
He wasn't in no comical mood, so we sunk down on the sand and seen the
show from there. We had plenty o' company that preferred these kind o'
seats free to the chairs at ten cents a whack.
Besides the people that was in the water gettin' knocked down by the
waves and pretendin' like they enjoyed it, about half o' the gang on the
sand was wearin' bathin' suits just to be clubby. You could tell by
lookin' at the suits that they hadn't never been wet and wasn't intended
for no such ridic'lous purpose. I wisht I could describe 'em to you, but
it'd take a female to do it right.
One little girl, either fourteen or twenty-four, had white silk slippers
and sox that come pretty near up to her ankles, and from there to her
knees it was just plain Nature. Northbound from her knees was a pair o'
bicycle trousers that disappeared when they come to the bottom of her
Mother Hubbard. This here garment was a thing without no neck or sleeves
that begin bulgin' at the top and spread out gradual all the way down,
like a croquette. To top her off, she had a jockey cap; and--believe
me--I'd of played her mount acrost the board. They was plenty o' class
in the field with her, but nothin' that approached her speed. Later on I
seen her several times round the hotel, wearin' somethin' near the same
outfit, without the jockey cap and with longer croquettes.
We set there in the sand till people begun to get up and leave. Then we
trailed along back o' them to the Breakers' porch, where they was music
to dance and stuff to inhale.
"We'll grab a table," I says to the Missus. "I'm dyin' o' thirst."
But I was allowed to keep on dyin'.
"I can serve you somethin' soft," says the waiter.
"I'll bet you can't!" I says.
"You ain't got no locker here?" he says.
"What do you mean--locker?" I ast him.
"It's the locker liquor law," he says. "We can serve you a drink if you
own your own bottles."
"I'd just as soon own a bottle," I says. "I'll become the proprietor of
a bottle o' beer."
"It'll take three or four hours to get it for you," he says, "and you'd
have to order it through the order desk. If you're stoppin' at one o'
the hotels and want a drink once in a w'ile, you better get busy and put
in an order."
So I had to watch the Missus put away a glass of orange juice that cost
forty cents and was just the same size as they give us for breakfast
free for nothin'. And, not havin' had nothin' to make me forget that my
feet hurt, I was obliged to pay another four bits for an Afromobile to
cart us back to our own boardin' house.
"Well," says the Missus when we got there, "it's time to wash up and go
to lunch."
"Wash up and go to lunch, then," I says; "but I'm goin' to investigate
this here locker liquor or liquor locker law."
So she got her key and beat it, and I limped to the bar.
"I want a highball," I says to the boy.
"What's your number?" says he.
"It varies," I says. "Sometimes I can hold twenty and sometimes four or
five makes me sing."
"I mean, have you got a locker here?" he says.
"No; but I want to get one," says I.
"The gent over there to the desk will fix you," says he.
So over to the desk I went and ast for a locker.
"What do you drink?" ast the gent.
"I'm from Chicago," I says. "I drink bourbon."
"What's your name and room number?" he says, and I told him.
Then he ast me how often did I shave and what did I think o' the Kaiser
and what my name was before I got married, and if I had any intentions
of ever running an elevator. Finally he says I was all right.
"I'll order you some bourbon," he says. "Anything else?"
I was goin' to say no, but I happened to remember that the Wife
generally always wants a bronix before dinner. So I had to also put in a
bid for a bottle o' gin and bottles o' the Vermouth brothers, Tony and
Pierre. It wasn't till later that I appreciated what a grand law this
here law was. When I got my drinks I paid ten cents apiece for 'em for
service, besides payin' for the bottles o' stuff to drink. And, besides
that, about every third highball or bronix I ordered, the waiter'd bring
back word that I was just out of ingredients and then they'd be another
delay w'ile they sent to the garage for more. If they had that law all
over the country they'd soon be an end o' drinkin', because everybody'd
get so mad they'd kill each other.
My cross-examination had took quite a long time, but when I got to my
room the Wife wasn't back from lunch yet and I had to cover the Marathon
route all over again and look her up. We only had the one key to the
room, and o' course couldn't expect no more'n that at the price.
The Missus had bought one o' the daily programs they get out and she
knowed just what we had to do the rest o' the day.
"For the next couple hours," she says, "we can suit ourself."
"All right," says I. "It suits me to take off my shoes and lay down."
"I'll rest, too," she says; "but at half past four we have to be in the
Cocoanut Grove for tea and dancin'. And then we come back to the room
and dress for dinner. Then we eat and then we set around till the
evenin' dance starts. Then we dance till we're ready for bed."
"Who do we dance all these dances with?" I ast her.
"With whoever we get acquainted with," she says.
"All right," says I; "but let's be careful."
Well, we took our nap and then we followed schedule and had our tea in
the Cocoanut Grove. You know how I love tea! My feet was still achin'
and the Missus couldn't talk me into no dance.
When we'd set there an hour and was saturated with tea, the Wife says it
was time to go up and change into our Tuxedos. I was all in when we
reached the room and willin' to even pass up supper and nestle in the
hay, but I was informed that the biggest part o' the day's doin's was
yet to come. So from six o'clock till after seven I wrestled with studs,
and hooks and eyes that didn't act like they'd ever met before and
wasn't anxious to get acquainted, and then down we went again to the
dinin'-room.
"How about a little bronix before the feed?" I says.
"It would taste good," says the Missus.
So I called Eph and give him the order. In somethin' less than half an
hour he come back empty-handed.
"You ain't got no cocktail stuff," he says.
"I certainly have," says I. "I ordered it early this afternoon."
"Where at?" he ast me.
"Over in the bar," I says.
"Oh, the regular bar!" he says. "That don't count. You got to have stuff
at the service bar to get it served in here."
"I ain't as thirsty as I thought I was," says I.
"Me, neither," says the Missus.
So we went ahead and ordered our meal, and w'ile we was waitin' for it a
young couple come and took the other two chairs at our table. They
didn't have to announce through a megaphone that they was honeymooners.
It was wrote all over 'em. They was reachin' under the table for each
other's hand every other minute, and when they wasn't doin' that they
was smilin' at each other or gigglin' at nothin'. You couldn't feel that
good and be payin' seventeen dollars a day for room and board unless you
was just married or somethin'.
I thought at first their company'd be fun, but after a few meals it got
like the southern cookin' and begun to undermine the health.
The conversation between they and us was what you could call limited. It
took place the next day at lunch. The young husband thought he was about
to take a bite o' the entry, which happened to be roast mutton with
sirup; but he couldn't help from lookin' at her at the same time and his
empty fork started for his face prongs up.
"Look out for your eye," I says.
He dropped the fork and they both blushed till you could see it right
through the sunburn. Then they give me a Mexican look and our
acquaintance was at an end.
This first night, when we was through eatin', we wandered out in the
lobby and took seats where we could watch the passin' show. The men was
all dressed like me, except I was up to date and had on a mushroom
shirt, w'ile they was sportin' the old-fashioned concrete bosom. The
women's dresses begun at the top with a belt, and some o' them stopped
at the mezzanine floor, w'ile others went clear down to the basement and
helped keep the rugs clean. They was one that must of thought it was the
Fourth o' July. From the top of her head to where the top of her bathin'
suit had left off, she was a red, red rose. From there to the top of her
gown was white, and her gown, what they was of it--was blue.
"My!" says the Missus. "What stunnin' gowns!"
"Yes," I says; "and you could have one just like 'em if you'd take the
shade offen the piano lamp at home and cut it down to the right size."
Round ten o'clock we wandered in the Palm Garden, where the dancin' had
been renewed. The Wife wanted to plunge right in the mazes o' the foxy
trot.
"I'll take some courage first," says I. And then was when I found out
that it cost you ten cents extra besides the tip to pay for a drink that
you already owned in fee simple.
Well, I guess we must of danced about six dances together and had that
many quarrels before she was ready to go to bed. And oh, how grand that
old hay-pile felt when I finally bounced into it!
The next day we went to the ocean at the legal hour--half past eleven. I
never had so much fun in my life. The surf was runnin' high, I heard 'em
say; and I don't know which I'd rather do, go bathin' in the ocean at
Palm Beach when the surf is runnin' high, or have a dentist get one o'
my molars ready for a big inlay at a big outlay. Once in a w'ile I
managed to not get throwed on my head when a wave hit me. As for
swimmin', you had just as much chance as if you was at State and Madison
at the noon hour. And before I'd been in a minute they was enough salt
in my different features to keep the Blackstone hotel runnin' all
through the onion season.
The Missus enjoyed it just as much as me. She tried to pretend at first,
and when she got floored she'd give a squeal that was supposed to mean
heavenly bliss. But after she'd been bruised from head to feet and her
hair looked and felt like spinach with French dressin', and she'd drank
all she could hold o' the Gulf Stream, she didn't resist none when I
drug her in to shore and staggered with her up to our private rooms at
five a week per each.
Without consultin' her, I went to the desk at the Casino and told 'em
they could have them rooms back.
"All right," says the clerk, and turned our keys over to the next in
line.
"How about a refund?" I ast him; but he was waitin' on somebody else.
After that we done our bathin' in the tub. But we was down to the beach
every morning at eleven-thirty to watch the rest o' them get batted
round.
And at half past twelve every day we'd follow the crowd to the Breakers'
porch and dance together, the Missus and I. Then it'd be back to the
other hostelry, sometimes limpin' and sometimes in an Afromobile, and a
drink or two in the Palm Garden before lunch. And after lunch we'd lay
down; or we'd pay some Eph two or three dollars to pedal us through the
windin' jungle trail, that was every bit as wild as the Art Institute;
or we'd ferry acrost Lake Worth to West Palm Beach and take in a movie,
or we'd stand in front o' the portable Fifth Avenue stores w'ile the
Missus wished she could have this dress or that hat, or somethin' else
that she wouldn't of looked at if she'd been home and in her right mind.
But always at half past four we had to live up to the rules and be in
the Cocoanut Grove for tea and some more foxy trottin'. And then it was
dress for dinner, eat dinner, watch the parade and wind up the glorious
day with more dancin'.
I bet you any amount you name that the Castles in their whole life
haven't danced together as much as I and the Missus did at Palm Beach.
I'd of gave five dollars if even one o' the waiters had took her offen
my hands for one dance. But I knowed that if I made the offer public
they'd of been a really serious quarrel between us instead o' just the
minor brawls occasioned by steppin' on each other's feet.
She made a discovery one night. She found out that they was a place
called the Beach Club where most o' the real people disappeared to every
evenin' after dinner. She says we would have to go there too.
"But I ain't a member," I says.
"Then find out how you get to be one," she says.
So to the Beach Club I went and made inquiries.
"You'll have to be introduced by a guy that already belongs," says the
man at the door.
"Who belongs?" I ast him.
"Hundreds o' people," he says. "Who do you know?"
"Two waiters, two barkeepers and one elevator boy," I says.
He laughed, but his laugh didn't get me no membership card and I had to
dance three or four extra times the next day to square myself with the
Missus.
She made another discovery and it cost me six bucks. She found out that,
though the meals in the regular dinin'-room was included in the triflin'
rates per day, the real people had at least two o' their meals in the
garden grill and paid extra for 'em. We tried it for one meal and I must
say I enjoyed it--all but the check.
"We can't keep up that clip," I says to her.
"We could," says she, "if you wasn't spendin' so much on your locker."
"The locker's a matter o' life and death," I says. "They ain't no man in
the world that could dance as much with their own wife as I do and live
without liquid stimulus."
When we'd been there four days she got to be on speakin' terms with the
ladies' maid that hung round the lobby and helped put the costumes back
on when they slipped off. From this here maid the Missus learned who was
who, and the information was relayed to me as soon as they was a chance.
We'd be settin' on the porch when I'd feel an elbow in my ribs all of a
sudden. I'd look up at who was passin' and then try and pretend I was
excited.
"Who is it?" I'd whisper.
"That's Mrs. Vandeventer," the Wife'd say. "Her husband's the biggest
street-car conductor in Philadelphia."
Or somebody'd set beside us at the beach or in the Palm Garden and my
ribs would be all battered up before the Missus was calm enough to tip
me off.
"The Vincents," she'd say; "the canned prune people."
It was a little bit thrillin' at first to be rubbin' elbows with all
them celeb's; but it got so finally that I could walk out o' the
dinin'-room right behind Scotti, the opera singer, without forgettin'
that my feet hurt.
The Washington's Birthday Ball brought 'em all together at once, and the
Missus pointed out eight and nine at a time and got me so mixed up that
I didn't know Pat Vanderbilt from Maggie Rockefeller. The only one you
couldn't make no mistake about was a Russian count that you couldn't
pronounce. He was buyin' bay mules or somethin' for the Russian
government, and he was in ambush.
"They say he can't hardly speak a word of English," says the Missus.
"If I knowed the word for barber shop in Russia," says I, "I'd tell him
they was one in this hotel."
V
In our mail box the next mornin' they was a notice that our first week
was up and all we owed was one hundred and forty-six dollars and fifty
cents. The bill for room and meals was one hundred and nineteen dollars.
The rest was for gettin' clo'es pressed and keepin' the locker damp.
I didn't have no appetite for breakfast. I told the Wife I'd wait up in
the room and for her to come when she got through. When she blew in I
had my speech prepared.
"Look here," I says; "this is our eighth day in Palm Beach society.
You're on speakin' terms with a maid and I've got acquainted with half a
dozen o' the male hired help. It's cost us about a hundred and
sixty-five dollars, includin' them private rooms down to the Casino and
our Afromobile trips, and this and that. You know a whole lot o' swell
people by sight, but you can't talk to 'em. It'd be just as much
satisfaction and hundreds o' dollars cheaper to look up their names in
the telephone directory at home; then phone to 'em and, when you got
'em, tell 'em it was the wrong number. That way, you'd get 'em to speak
to you at least.
"As for sport," I says, "we don't play golf and we don't play tennis and
we don't swim. We go through the same program o' doin' nothin' every
day. We dance, but we don't never change partners. For twelve dollars I
could buy a phonograph up home and I and you could trot round the
livin'-room all evenin' without no danger o' havin' some o' them fancy
birds cave our shins in. And we could have twice as much liquid
refreshments up there at about a twentieth the cost.
"That Gould I met on the train comin' down," I says, "was a even bigger
liar than I give him credit for. He says that when he was here people
pestered him to death by comin' up and speakin' to him. We ain't had to
dodge nobody or hide behind a cocoanut tree to remain exclusive. He says
Palm Beach was too common for him. What he should of said was that it
was too lonesome. If they was just one white man here that'd listen to
my stuff I wouldn't have no kick. But it ain't no pleasure tellin'
stories to the Ephs. They laugh whether it's good or not, and then want
a dime for laughin'.
"As for our clo'es," I says, "they would be all right for a couple o'
days' stay. But the dames round here, and the men, too, has somethin'
different to put on for every mornin', afternoon and night. You've wore
your two evenin' gowns so much that I just have to snap my finger at the
hooks and they go and grab the right eyes.
"The meals would be grand," I says, "if the cook didn't keep gettin'
mixed up and puttin' puddin' sauce on the meat and gravy on the pie.
"I'm glad we've been to Palm Beach," I says. "I wouldn't of missed it
for nothin'. But the ocean won't be no different to-morrow than it was
yesterday, and the same for the daily program. It don't even rain here,
to give us a little variety.
"Now what do you say," I says, "to us just settlin' this bill, and
whatever we owe since then, and beatin' it out o' here just as fast as
we can go?"
The Missus didn't say nothin' for a w'ile. She was too busy cryin'. She
knowed that what I'd said was the truth, but she wouldn't give up
without a struggle.
"Just three more days," she says finally. "If we don't meet somebody
worth meetin' in the next three days I'll go wherever you want to take
me."
"All right," I says; "three more days it is. What's a little matter o'
sixty dollars?"
Well, in them next two days and a half she done some desperate flirtin',
but as it was all with women I didn't get jealous. She picked out some
o' the E-light o' Chicago and tried every trick she could think up. She
told 'em their noses was shiny and offered 'em her powder. She stepped
on their white shoes just so's to get a chance to beg their pardon. She
told 'em their clo'es was unhooked, and then unhooked 'em so's she could
hook 'em up again. She tried to loan 'em her finger-nail tools. When she
seen one fannin' herself she'd say: "Excuse me, Mrs. So-and-So; but we
got the coolest room in the hotel, and I'd be glad to have you go up
there and quit perspirin'." But not a rise did she get.
Not till the afternoon o' the third day o' grace. And I don't know if I
ought to tell you this or not--only I'm sure you won't spill it
nowheres.
We'd went up in our room after lunch. I was tired out and she was
discouraged. We'd set round for over an hour, not sayin' or doin'
nothin'.
I wanted to talk about the chance of us gettin' away the next mornin',
but I didn't dast bring up the subject.
The Missus complained of it bein' hot and opened the door to leave the
breeze go through. She was settin' in a chair near the doorway,
pretendin' to read the _Palm Beach News_. All of a sudden she jumped up
and kind o' hissed at me.
"What's the matter?" I says, springin' from the lounge.
"Come here!" she says, and went out the door into the hall.
I got there as fast as I could, thinkin' it was a rat or a fire. But the
Missus just pointed to a lady walkin' away from us, six or seven doors
down.
"It's Mrs. Potter," she says; "_the_ Mrs. Potter from Chicago!"
"Oh!" I says, puttin' all the excitement I could into my voice.
And I was just startin' back into the room when I seen Mrs. Potter stop
and turn round and come to'rd us. She stopped again maybe twenty feet
from where the Missus was standin'.
"Are you on this floor?" she says.
The Missus shook like a leaf.
"Yes," says she, so low you couldn't hardly hear her.
"Please see that they's some towels put in 559," says _the_ Mrs. Potter
from Chicago.