raciously. "For my part, I would
as lief hang around this here place by myself."

"It's all very well for you to talk," Babette rejoined; "but you know
very well that in your condition you could drop in the street at any
time yet."

"_Schmooes!_" Sam cried. "I am walking by myself for sixty-five years
yet and I guess I could continue to do it."

"But Doctor Eichendorfer says----" Babette began.

"What do I care what Doctor Eichendorfer says!" Sam interrupted. "And,
furthermore, supposing I would drop in the street--which anybody could
slip oncet in a while on a banana peel, understand me--ain't I got
cards in my pocket?"

Babette remained silent for a moment, whereat Sam plucked up new
courage.

"Why should you bother yourself to _schlepp_ me along like this?" he
said. "There's lots of people I could go out with. Ain't it? Take old
man Herz _oder_ Mrs. Krakauer--they would be glad to go out walking
with me; and oncet in a while I could go and call on Mrs. Schrimm
maybe."

"Mrs. Schrimm!" Babette exclaimed. "I'm surprised to hear you talk that
way. Mrs. Schrimm for years goes around telling everybody that mommer
_selig_ leads you a dawg's life."

"Everybody's got a right to their opinion, Babette," Sam said; "but,
anyhow, that ain't here nor there. If you wouldn't want me to go around
and see Mrs. Schrimm I wouldn't."

Babette snorted.

"In the first place," she said, "you couldn't go unless I go with you;
and, in the second place, you couldn't get me to go there for a hundred
dollars."

Beyond suggesting that a hundred dollars was a lot of money, Sam made
no further attempt to secure his liberty that morning; but on the
following day he discreetly called his daughter's attention to a
full-page advertisement in the morning paper.

"Ain't you was telling me the other evening you need to got some table
napkins, Babette?" he asked.

Babette nodded.

"Well, here it is in the paper that new concern, Weldon, Jones &
Company, is selling to-day napkins at three dollars a dozen--the best
damask napkins," he concluded.

Babette seized the paper and five minutes later she was poking hatpins
into her scalp with an energy that made Sam's eyes water.

"Where are you going, Babette?" he said.

"I'm going downtown to that sale of linens," she said, "and I'll be
back to take you out at one o'clock."

"Don't hurry on my account," Sam said. "I've got enough here in the
paper to keep me busy until to-night yet."