“Girlsh,” said the man, beseechingly, “I allus trea’s yehs ri’, didn’ I?  I’m goo’ f’ler, ain’ I, girlsh?”

“Sure,” again they chorused.

“Well,” said he finally, “le’s have nozzer drink, zen.”

“That’s right,” hailed a woman, “that’s right.  Yer no bloomin’ jay!  Yer spends yer money like a man.  Dat’s right.”

The man pounded the table with his quivering fists.

“Yessir,” he cried, with deep earnestness, as if someone disputed him.  “I’m damn goo’ f’ler, an’ w’en anyone trea’s me ri’, I allus trea’s—­le’s have nozzer drink.”

He began to beat the wood with his glass.

“Shay,” howled he, growing suddenly impatient.  As the waiter did not then come, the man swelled with wrath.

“Shay,” howled he again.

The waiter appeared at the door.

“Bringsh drinksh,” said the man.

The waiter disappeared with the orders.

“Zat f’ler damn fool,” cried the man.  “He insul’ me!  I’m ge’man!  Can’ stan’ be insul’!  I’m goin’ lickim when comes!”

“No, no,” cried the women, crowding about and trying to subdue him.  “He’s all right!  He didn’t mean anything!  Let it go!  He’s a good fellah!”

“Din’ he insul’ me?” asked the man earnestly.

“No,” said they.  “Of course he didn’t!  He’s all right!”

“Sure he didn’ insul’ me?” demanded the man, with deep anxiety in his voice.

“No, no!  We know him!  He’s a good fellah.  He didn’t mean anything.”

“Well, zen,” said the man, resolutely, “I’m go’ ’pol’gize!”

When the waiter came, the man struggled to the middle of the floor.

“Girlsh shed you insul’ me!  I shay damn lie!  I ’pol’gize!”

“All right,” said the waiter.

The man sat down.  He felt a sleepy but strong desire to straighten things out and have a perfect understanding with everybody.

“Nell, I allus trea’s yeh shquare, din’ I?  Yeh likes me, don’ yehs, Nell?  I’m goo’ f’ler?”

“Sure,” said the woman of brilliance and audacity.

“Yeh knows I’m stuck on yehs, don’ yehs, Nell?”

“Sure,” she repeated, carelessly.

Overwhelmed by a spasm of drunken adoration, he drew two or three bills from his pocket, and, with the trembling fingers of an offering priest, laid them on the table before the woman.

“Yehs knows, damn it, yehs kin have all got, ’cause I’m stuck on yehs, Nell, damn’t, I—­I’m stuck on yehs, Nell—­buy drinksh—­ damn’t—­we’re havin’ heluva time—­w’en anyone trea’s me ri’—­I—­ damn’t, Nell—­we’re havin’ heluva—­time.”

Shortly he went to sleep with his swollen face fallen forward on his chest.

The women drank and laughed, not heeding the slumbering man in the corner.  Finally he lurched forward and fell groaning to the floor.

The women screamed in disgust and drew back their skirts.

“Come ahn,” cried one, starting up angrily, “let’s get out of here.”