If I wore one of those vests like yours Abbie'd make me put on a red
flannel lung-protector to keep from catchin' pneumonia. And she'd think
'twas sinful waste besides, runnin' the risk of sp'ilin' a clean biled
shirt so quick. Won't I look like an undertaker, sittin' alongside of
you?"
"Not a bit. If it will ease your mind I'll change to a business suit."
"I don't care. You know how I feel; we had a little talk about hats a
spell ago, you remember. If you're willin' to take me 'just as I am,
without a plea,' as the hymn-tune says, why, I cal'late I'll say yes and
go. Set down and wait while I get on my ceremonials."
He retired to the curtain alcove, and Pearson heard him rustling about,
evidently making a hurried change of raiment. During this process he
talked continuously.
"Jim," he said, "I ain't been to the theater but once since I landed in
New York. Then I went to see a play named 'The Heart of a Sailor.' Ha!
ha! that was a great show! Ever take it in, did you?"
"No. I never did."
"Well, you'd ought to. It's a wonder of it's kind. I learned more
things about life-savin' and 'longshore life from that drayma than you'd
believe was possible. You'd have got some p'ints for your Cap'n Jim yarn
from that play; you sartin would! Yes, indeed! Way I happened to go to
it was on account of seein' a poster on a fence over nigh where that
Moriarty tribe lived.
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