It cost me a dollar to bring the dish-dragger back to earth, and Stevie
said I could break his bank open when we got home and take all the money
if I'd let him do it again.

Just then I got a flash of Dike Lawrence bearing down in our direction
under a full head of benzine.

Dike was escorting a three days' jag and whispering words of
encouragement to it.

A good fellow, Dike, but he shouldn't permit a distillery to use his
thirst as a testing station--he's too temperamental.

"H'ar'ye, Mrs. John?" he gurgled as the waiter pushed an extra chair
under him. "Howdy, John? How de do, little man! 'Scuse me for
int'rupting a perf'ly splendid family party--my mistake!--I'm all
in--that's it--I'm all in and it's your fault, John; all your fault!"

"What's wrong, Dike?" I inquired.

"Ev'thing!" he martinied; "ev'thing all wrong--lesh have drink--my
mistake--didn't think of it before. Your little son growing to be a
splendid boy, Mrs. John!"

"This is Stephen, my little brother, not my little son," Peaches
explained; "we haven't any children," she added nervously.

Dike carefully closed one eye and focussed the other on her. "Haven't
any little son--my mistake!" Then he turned the open gig-lamp on me and
began again. "S'prised at you, John; little son is the most won'erful
thing any father and mother could possess with the possible 'ception of
a li'l daughter--ain't that so, Mrs. John? Little brother is all right,
but don't compare with little son. Look at me, Mrs. John; can't ever
have little son--when I think about it I could bust right out
cryin'--Grief has made me almost hystalical, hystorical, hystollified--I
mean, I'm nervous--lesh have drink!"

"What's gone wrong, Dike?" I asked; "each minute you look more and more
like Mona Lisa without the smile--what's the trouble?"

"All your fault, John," he plunged on again. "Most bew'ful girl she was,
Mrs. John; perf'ly bew'ful, with won'erful gray hair and golden eyes,
perf'ly bew'ful girl. I told your husban' all about her--I made
confession that I was madly in love with this bew'ful girl, and your
husban' told me to go and propose to her and drag her off to a
minister--and I did propose--my mistake. After I made my speech she said
to me, this bew'ful girl said to me, 'That's all right; no doubt you do
love me, but are you eugenic?' and I said, 'No, I'm Presbyterian.'"

Dike paused to let the horror of the scene sink in and then he fell
overboard again with a mois