[Illustration:  "Come On!"]

A bug-eyed Maniac with his Collar to the bad was found wandering hither and thither with $90 in his Left Hand.  The Tout had to shake him a couple of times before he came to.  The Tout had some Goods of a very superior Quality.  In the next Race there was a Collie that had enough Hop in him to convert a Selling Plater into a Reina.  It was like making change with a Blind Man.  Rinkaboo was the Name.  Breathe it softly, as very few were Next.

The Tout said to play it across the Board, forward and back, up and down.  He said that Rinkaboo would breeze in, that he would win on the Bit, doing Buck and Wing Steps, that all the others would seem to be Hitched.

So, Mr. Piker allowed the Tout to take him by the Hand, for he was too weak to resist, and together they wandered off into Dreamland.  Piece by Piece the happy Sesterces went up.  Rinkaboo was played in all the Books, straight, place and to peep.  Mr. Piker found himself up in the Grand Stand holding his Head with one Hand while in the other Hand was a Pinochle Deck, suitable for framing.  If Rinkaboo finished at all, Mr. Piker was a Wealthy Person.  If he happened in toward the head of the Procession, Mr. Piker would have to send for a Furniture Van.  If he came First, it would be a case of Hoboken for every Book inside of the Fence.

After it was all over and Mr. Percy M. Piker was riding homeward with his Head out of a Trolley Window, he recalled dimly that a large number of long-legged Ponies came out on the Track.  One of them was the color of an Old Glove and was doing a Two-Step.  There was about twenty minutes of Fussing around at the Bend in the Track and then they all kited away like a flight of Swallows and there was one Horse in front and Mr. Piker had a Convulsion and frothed at the mouth.  Presently the Tonic seemed to die away and something Blew and Rinkaboo fell down and stepped on his Lip.  He came in about the time they were blowing the Horn for the next Race.

And now Mr. Piker can take Callers up to his Room and tell them how he stood to win $1,340.

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MORAL:  Even the Best cannot pick them every Whirl out of the Box.

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THE HIGH ART THAT WAS A LITTLE TOO HIGH FOR THE VULGARIAN WHO PAID THE BILLS

Once there was a Husband who was stuck on Plain Living and Home Comforts.  He would walk around an Angel Cake any old Time to get action on some Farm Sausage.  He was not very strong for Romaine Salad or any Speckled Cheese left over from Year before last, but he did a very neat vanishing Act with a Sirloin Steak and he had the Coffee come right along in a large Cup.  He refused to dally with the Demi-Tasse.  For this true American the Course Dinner was a weak Invention of the benighted Foreigner.  When he squared up to his Food he cut out all the Trimmings.