And with those tender words and the pitcher the bellhop had brought back we plighted our troth.

What do you know about that?  I don’t believe I ever before was as much in love as I am now.  Why, I ain’t been to see any other show but his for two weeks.  Of course, I have been engaged before and handed out this eye-glistening-with-adoration gag before, but it was done only to vary the monotony of my former theatrical career and increase my income.

What!  Sure I get an allowance from the fellows I’m engaged to.  It’s only fair.  Ain’t I got a trooso to buy?  Te, he!

If I’d saved all the money I have been given to purchase troosos with I would have a bunch that would make Gladys Vanderbilt’s layout look like a gingham wrapper.  Sure, ain’t it worth money to those wops to have the pure love of a good, true girl?  Gee, don’t make me laugh like a baby.

I was betrothed to six at one time, and the diamond rings I wore made the prima bite her finger-nails with jealousy.  Oh, I had a great graft.

I had a birthday in every week stand.  System?  Well, I should hope so, dear.

We’d work it this way:  Alla McSweeney and I were chumming together, and naturally Monday night after the show we would meet some folks.  We would have a real nice time, and along about fourth highball time after the show Wednesday night Alla would whisper real confidential into one of the fellows’ ear that I was going to be twenty-one Friday and “we girls” are planning to give her a little surprise, and did he want to come in on it.

Every time the Johns would fall, except in Milwaukee, and nobody ever got anything out of that town anyway.  Then Alla would whisper that the company was going to present me with a loving cup because I was such a good fellow, and if they wanted to chip in now was their chance, and anything was acceptable from $5 up, and to bring his friends.

Alla would tout it up something fierce, I being totally unconscious to what was coming off.

Friday night would come around and Alla would borrow the loving cup from the property man that the tenor used in the drinking number, put it under her shawl and caper over to the appointed cafe.

I would be the center of a bunch of merry cut-ups all wanting to blow out the candles on my birthday cake.

After the wine got to flowing freely and the crowd all jolly Alla would drag out the prop and make a nice little speech on behalf of the company.

Me—­you know I would be that flustered that I didn’t know what to do, and when Alla would say that other people beside the members of the company had assisted I would be so gratified that I could scarce keep back the tears.

All the clucks that hadn’t chipped in would feel so bad because they weren’t included in my outburst of gratitude that nine times out of ten they would sneak out and try to break into a jewelry store.

Then Saturday Alla and I would do the great divide.