Side-stepping with Shorty

by Sewell Ford

  IV

  THE TORTONIS' STAR ACT

  What I was after was a souse in the Sound; but say, I never know justwhat's goin' to happen to me when I gets to roamin' around WestchesterCounty!

  I'd started out from Primrose Park to hoof it over to a little beach aways down shore, when along comes Dominick with his blue dump cart.Now, Dominick's a friend of mine, and for a foreigner he's the mostentertainin' cuss I ever met. I like talkin' with him. He can makethe English language sound more like a lullaby than most of your highpriced opera singers; and as for bein' cheerful, why, he's got a pairof eyes like sunny days.

  Course, he wears rings in his ears, and likely a seven inch knife downthe back of his neck. He ain't perfumed with violets either, when youget right close to; but the ash collectin' business don't call for_peau d'Espagne_, does it?

  "Hallo!" says Dominick. "You lika ride?"

  Well, I can't say I'm stuck on bein' bounced around in an ash chariot;but I knew Dominick meant well, so in I gets. We'd been joltin' alongfor about four blocks, swappin' pigeon toed conversation, when thereshows up on the road behind us the fanciest rig I've seen outside of acircus. In front, hitched up tandem, was a couple of black and whitepatchwork ponies that looked like they'd broke out of a sportin' print.Say, with their shiny hoofs and yeller harness, it almost made youreyes ache to look at 'em. But the buggy was part of the picture, too.It was the dizziest ever--just a couple of upholstered settees,balanced back to back on a pair of rubber tired wheels, with the wholeshootin' match, cushions and all, a blazin' turkey red.

  On the nigh side was a coachman, with his bandy legs cased in whitepants and yeller topped boots; and on the other--well, say! you talkabout your polka dot symphonies! Them spots was as big as quarters,and those in the parasol matched the ones in her dress.

  I'd been gawpin' at the outfit a couple of minutes before I could seeanything but the dots, and then all of a sudden I tumbles that it'sSadie. She finds me about the same time, and jabs her sun shade intothe small of the driver's back, to make him pull up. I tells Dominickto haul in, too, but his old skate is on his hind legs, with his earspointed front, wakin' up for the first time in five years, so I has todrop out over the tail board.

  "Well, what do you think of the rig?" says Sadie.

  "I guess me and Dominick's old crow bait has about the same thoughtsalong that line," says I. "Can you blame us?"

  "It is rather giddy, isn't it?" says she.

  "'Most gave me the blind staggers," says I. "You ought to distributesmoked glasses along the route of procession. Did you buy it some darknight, or was it made to order after somethin' you saw in a dream?"

  "The idea!" says Sadie. "This jaunting car is one I had sent over fromParis, to help my ponies get a blue ribbon at the Hill'n'dale horseshow. And that's what it did, too."

  "Blue ribbon!" says I. "The judges must have been colour blind."

  "Oh, I don't know," says Sadie, stickin' her tongue out at me. "Afterthat I've a good notion to make you walk."

  "I don't know as I'd have nerve enough to ride in that, anyway," saysI. "Is it a funeral you're goin' to?"

  "Next thing to it," says she. "But come on, Shorty; get aboard andI'll tell you all about it."

  So I steps up alongside the spotted silk, and the driver lets theponies loose. Say, it was like ridin' sideways in a roller coaster.

  Sadie said she was awful glad to see me just then. She had a job onhand that she hated to do, and she needed some one to stand in hercorner and cheer her up while she tackled it. Seems she'd got rash afew days before and made a promise to lug the Duke and Duchess ofKildee over to call on the Wigghorns. Sadie'd been actin' as sort ofadvance agent for Their Dukelets durin' their splurge over here, andMrs. Wigghorn had mesmerised her into makin' a date for a call. Thiswas the day.

  It would have gone through all right if some one hadn't put the Dukewise to what he was up against. Maybe you know about the Wigghorns?Course, they've got the goods, for about a dozen years ago old Wigghornchoked a car patent out of some poor inventor, and his bank account'sbeen pyramidin' so fast ever since that now he's in the eight figureclass; but when it comes to bein' in the monkey dinner crowd, theyain't even counted as near-silks.

  "Why," says Sadie, "I've heard that they have their champagne standingin rows on the sideboard, and that they serve charlotte russe forbreakfast!"

  "That's an awful thing to repeat," says I.

  "Oh, well," says she, "Mrs. Wigghorn's a good natured soul, and I dothink the Duke might have stood her for an afternoon. He wouldn'tthough, and now I've got to go there and call it off, just as she's gotherself into her diamond stomacher, probably, to receive them."

  "You couldn't ring in a couple of subs?" says I. For a minute Sadie'sblue eyes lights up like I'd passed her a plate of peach ice cream."If I only could!" says she. Then she shakes her head. "No," shesays, "I should hate to lie. And, anyway, there's no one within reachwho could play their parts."

  "That bein' the case," says I, "it looks like you'd have to go aheadand break the sad news. What do you want me to do--hold a bucket forthe tears?"

  Sadie said all she expected of me was to help her forget it afterwards;so we rolls along towards Wigghorn Arms. We'd got within a mile ofthere when we meets a Greek peddler with a bunch of toy balloons on hisshoulder, and in less'n no time at all them crazy-quilt ponies wastryin' to do back somersaults and other fool stunts. In the mix up oneof 'em rips a shoe almost off, and Mr. Coachman says he'll have tochase back to a blacksmith shop and have it glued on.

  "Oh, bother!" says Sadie. "Well, hurry up about it. We'll walk alongas far as Apawattuck Inn and wait there."

  It wa'n't much of a walk. The Apawattuck's a place where they deal outimitation shore dinners to trolley excursionists, and fusel oil highballs to the bubble trade. The name sounds well enough, but that ain'tsatisfyin' when you're real hungry. We were only killin' time, though,so it didn't matter. We strolled up just as fearless as though theirclam chowders was fit to eat.

  And that's what fetched us up against the Tortonis. They was wellplaced, at a corner veranda table where no one could miss seein' 'em;and, as they'd just finished a plate of chicken salad and a pint ofgenuine San Jose claret, they was lookin' real comfortable and elegant.

  Say, to see the droop eyed way they sized us up as we makes our entry,you'd think they was so tired doin' that sort of thing that life washardly worth while. You'd never guess they'd been livin' in a hall bedroom on crackers and bologna ever since the season closed, and thatthis was their first real feed of the summer, on the strength of justhavin' been booked for fifty performances. He was wearin' one of themtorrid suits you see in Max Blumstein's show window, with a rainbowband on his straw pancake, and one of these flannel collar shirts thatyou button under the chin with a brass safety pin. She was sportin' aPeter Pan peekaboo that would have made Comstock gasp. And neither of'em had seen a pay day for the last two months.

  But it was done good, though. They had the tray jugglers standin'around respectful, and the other guests wonderin' how two such realHouse of Mirthers should happen to stray in where the best dishes onthe card wa'n't more'n sixty cents a double portion.

  Course, I ain't never been real chummy with Tortoni--his boardin' housename's Skinny Welch, you know--but I've seen him knockin' around theRialto off'n on for years; so, as I goes by to the next table, I liftsmy lid and says, "Hello, Skin. How goes it?" Say, wa'n't thatfriendly enough? But what kind of a come back do I get? He just humpshis eyebrows, as much as to say, "How bold some of these common folksis gettin' to be!" and then turns the other way. Sadie and I look ateach other and swap grins.

  "What happened?" says she.

  "I had a fifteen cent lump of Hygeia passed to me," says I. "And withthe ice trust still on top, I calls it extravagant."

  "Who are the personages?" says she.

  "Well, the last reports I had of 'em," says I, "they were the Tortonis,waitin' to do a parlour ske
tch on the bargain day matinee circuit; butfrom the looks now I guesses they're travellin' incog--for theafternoon, anyway."

  "How lovely!" says Sadie.

  Our seltzer lemonades come along just then, so there was business withthe straws. I'd just fished out the last piece of pineapple when Jeemsshows up on the drive with the spotted ponies and that side saddlecart. I gave Sadie the nudge to look at the Tortonis. They had theireyes glued to that outfit, like a couple of Hester-st. kids lookin' ata hoky poky waggon.

  And it wa'n't no common "Oh, I wish I could swipe that" look, either.It was a heap deeper'n that. The whole get up, from the red wheels tothe silver rosettes, must have hit 'em hard, for they held their breathmost a minute, and never moved. The girl was the first to break away.She turns her face out towards the Sound and sighs. Say, it must betough to have ambitions like that, and never get nearer to 'em than nowand then a ten block hansom ride.

  About then Jeems catches Sadie's eye, and salutes with the whip.

  "Did you get it fixed?" says she.

  He says it's all done like new.

  Signor Tortoni hadn't been losin' a look nor a word, and the minute heties us up to them speckled ponies he maps out a change of act. BeforeI could call the waiter and get my change, Tortoni was right on theground.

  "I beg pardon," says he, "but isn't this my old friend, ProfessorMcCabe?"

  "You've sure got a comin' memory, Skinny," says I.

  "Why!" says he, gettin' a grip on my paw, "how stupid of me! Really,professor, you've grown so distinguished looking that I didn't placeyou at all. Why, this is a great pleasure, a very great pleasure,indeed!"

  "Ye-e-es?" says I.

  But say, I couldn't rub it in. He was so dead anxious to connecthimself with that red cart before the crowd that I just let him spielaway. Inside of two minutes the honours had been done all around, andSadie was bein' as nice to the girl as she knew how. And Sadie knows,though! She'd heard that sigh, Sadie had; and it didn't jar me a bitwhen she gives them the invite to take a little drive down the roadwith us.

  Well, it was worth the money, just to watch Skinny judgin' up the houseout of the corner of his eye. I'll bet there wa'n't one in theaudience that he didn't know just how much of it they was takin' in;and by the easy way he leaned across the seat back and chinned toSadie, as we got started, you'd thought he'd been brought up in one ofthem carts. The madam wa'n't any in the rear, either. She was just asmuch to home as if she'd been usin' up a green transfer across 34th.If the style was new to her, or the motion gave her a tingly feelin'down her back, she never mentioned it.

  They did lose their breath a few, though, when we struck Wigghorn Arms.It's a whackin' big place, all fenced in with fancy iron work andcurlicue gates fourteen feet high.

  "I've just got to run in a minute and say a word to Mrs. Wigghorn,"says Sadie. "I hope you don't mind waiting?"

  Oh no, they didn't. They said so in chorus, and as we looped the loopthrough the shrubbery and began to get glimpses of window awnings andtiled roof, I could tell by the way they acted that they'd just as soonwait inside as not.

  Mrs. Wigghorn wasn't takin' any chances on havin' Their Dukelets driveup, leave their cards, and skidoo. She was right out front holdin'down a big porch rocker, with her eyes peeled up the drive. And shewas costumed for the part. I don't know just what it was she had on,but I've seen plush parlour suits covered with stuff like that. She'sa sizable old girl anyway, but in that rig, and with her store hairpuffed out, she loomed up like a bale of hay in a door.

  "Why, how do you do!" she squeals, makin' a swoop at Sadie as soon asthe wheels stopped turnin'. "And you did bring them along, didn't you?Now don't say a word until I get Peter--he's just gone in to brush thecigar ashes off his vest. We want to be presented to the Duke andDuchess together, you know. Peter! Pe-ter!" she shouts, and inthrough the front door she waddles, yellin' for the old man.

  And say, just by the look Sadie gave me I knew what was runnin' throughher head.

  "Shorty," says she, "I've a mind to do it."

  "Flag it," says. "You ain't got time."

  But there was no stoppin' her. "Listen," says she to the Tortonis."Can't you play Duke and Duchess of Kildee for an hour or so?"

  "What are the lines?" says Skinny.

  "You've got to improvise as you go along," says she. "Can you do it?"

  "It's a pipe for me," says he. "Flossy, do you come in on it?"

  Did she? Why, Flossy was diggin' up her English accent while he wasaskin' the question, and by the time Mrs. Wigghorn got back, draggin'Peter by the lapel of his dress coat, the Tortonis was fairly oozin'aristocracy. It was "Chawmed, don'tcher know!" and "My word!" rightalong from the drop of the hat.

  I didn't follow 'em inside, and was just as glad I didn't have to.Sittin' out there, expectin' to hear the lid blow off, made me nervousenough. I wasn't afraid either of 'em would go shy on front; but whenI remembered Flossy's pencilled eyebrows, and Skinny's flannel collar,I says to myself, "That'll queer 'em as soon as they get in a goodlight and there's time for the details to soak in." And I didn't knowwhat kind of trouble the Wigghorns might stir up for Sadie, when theyfound out how bad they'd been toasted.

  It was half an hour before Sadie showed up again, and she was lookin'merry.

  "What have they done with 'em," says I--"dropped 'em down the well?"

  Sadie snickered as she climbed in and told Jeems to whip up the team."Mr. and Mrs. Wigghorn," says she, "have persuaded the Duke and Duchessto spend the week's end at Wigghorn Arms."

  "Gee!" says I. "Can they run the bluff that long?"

  "It's running itself," says Sadie. "The Wigghorns are so overcome withthe honour that they hardly know whether they're afoot or horseback;and as for your friends, they're more British than the real articlesever thought of being. I stayed until they'd looked through the suiteof rooms they're to occupy, and when I left they were being towed outto the garage to pick out a touring car that suited them. They seemedalready to be bored to death, too."

  "Good!" say I. "Now maybe you'll take me over to the beach and let meget in a quarter's worth of swim."

  "Can't you put it off, Shorty?" says she. "I want you to take the nexttrain into town and do an errand for me. Go to the landlady at thisnumber, East 15th-st., and tell her to send Mr. Tortoni's trunk byexpress."

  Well, I did it. It took a ten to make the landlady loosen up on thewardrobe, too; but considerin' the solid joy I've had, thinkin' aboutSkinny and Flossy eatin' charlotte russe for breakfast, and all that, Iguess I'm gettin' a lot for my money. It ain't every day you have achance to elevate a vaudeville team to the peerage.