f the fact that we would be
obliged to remain shirtless in our room while he took the bundle to the
washerwoman and left them as security for the laundered, without money
and without price.

We gave him special instructions, just how to manipulate matters in
order to be successful.

He said: "Oh, what cher giv'n us? Don't yer s'pose I know how to 'fake
de ole hen'?"

He scampered off, and returned very shortly with our laundry, when we
hastened to make our toilet for the six o'clock dinner.

We expected our papers from Washington inside of ten days from the time
we sent them. In this we were disappointed, and were compelled, to use
"the kid" several times to carry out "de exchange act" "wid de ole hen,"
as he called it.

After repeating it several times, he came in one evening very much
excited, and said:

"Yer can bet yer life it was by de skin o' my teeth I ever collar'd der
wash dis time. De ole gal's gittin' dead on, an' says if de gemmen are
such big-bugs dey better settle; but I gin' her a great song an' dance,
an' squeared her up."

We asked if he had any idea she would stand another deal of that kind.

"Yer can bet I'll fix 'er," he replied.

Frank then said: "Well, you young rascal, you can bet you'd better 'fix
'er.' Don't you ever be guilty of leaving the dirty shirts unless you
get the clean ones in their stead. If you ever come back here without
any shirts, I'll throw you out this window, as sure as you're a live
kid."

The next Saturday, late in the afternoon, we called "the kid" in to do
"the exchange act" again. We gave him some special instructions,
desiring him to distinctly understand that it wouldn't be healthy for
him to venture back to us without two shirts of some kind.

He didn't seem to have the same assurance and confidence as usual, but
said "he'd fix 'er." We remained in our room, sitting on the bed without
shirts about the usual length of time, when, "the kid" not returning, we
began to feel a little shaky.

Directly the door flew open, and in came the chambermaid, and rushed to
the commode with clean towels. We had forgotten to lock the door. Frank,
with his fund of ready wit, instantly jumped to the floor, and sang out:
"Well, put on your gloves again; I'll try you one more round before
supper!"

When the door closed on us we had a good laugh, as we had frequently
indulged in, when sitting there in that awkward, shirtless, expectant
predicament.

Our laugh, although hea