Willie was now a man of
the world, a bon vivant, as he ordered ham and eggs
from the pretty waitress of The Elite Restaurant on
Broadway; but at heart he was not happy for never be-
fore had he realized what a great proportion of his anat-
omy was made up of hands and feet. As he glanced
fearfully at the former, silhouetted against the white of
the table cloth, he flushed scarlet, assured as he was that
the waitress who had just turned away toward the
kitchen with his order was convulsed with laughter
and that every other eye in the establishment was glued
upon him. To assume an air of nonchalance and thereby
impress and disarm his critics Willie reached for a tooth-
pick in the little glass holder near the center of the ta-
ble and upset the sugar bowl. Immediately Willie
snatched back the offending hand and glared ferociously
at the ceiling. He could feel the roots of his hair being
consumed in the heat of his skin. A quick side glance
that required all his will power to consummate showed
him that no one appeared to have noticed his faux pas
and Willie was again slowly returning to normal when
the proprietor of the restaurant came up from behind
and asked him to remove his hat.
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