“Two tousand!” broke in T-S.

“In the advertisements?” I suggested, with a smile.

“No, no,” insisted the other.  “Two tousand, really.  In de advertisements, five tousand.”

“Well,” said I, “these men wear costumes which T-S has had made for them, and they pretend to be a mob.  They have been practicing all day, and by now they know what to do.  There is a man with a megaphone, shouting orders to them, and enormous lights playing upon them, so that men with cameras can take pictures of the scene.  It is very vivid, and as a portrayal of history, is truly educational.”

“And when it is done—­what becomes of the men?”

Utterly hopeless, you see!  We were right back on the forbidden ground!  “How do you mean?” I evaded.

“I mean, how do they live?”

“Dey got deir five dollars, ain’t dey?” It was T-S, of course.

“Yes, but that won’ last very long, will it?  What is the cost of this dinner we are eating?”

The magnate of the movies looked to the speaker, and then burst into a laugh.  “Ho, ho, ho!  Dat’s a good vun!”

Said I, hastily:  “Mr. T-S means that there are cheaper eating places to be found.”

“Well,” said Carpenter, “why don’t we find one?”

“It’s no use, Billy.  He thinks it’s up to me to feed all de bums on de lot.  Is dat it, Mr. Carpenter?”

“I can’t say, Mr. T-S; I don’t know how many there are, and I don’t know how rich you are.”

“Vell, dey got five million out o’ verks in this country now, and if I vanted to bust myself, I could feed ’em vun day, maybe two.  But ven I got done, dey vouldn’t be nobody to make pictures, and somebody vould have to feed old Abey—­or maybe me and Maw could go back to carryin’ pants in a push cart!  If you tink I vouldn’t like to see all de hungry fed, you got me wrong, Mr. Carpenter; but vot I learned is dis—­if you stop fer all de misery you see in de vorld about you, you vouldn’t git novhere.”

“Well,” said Carpenter, “what difference would that make?”

The proprietor of Eternal City really wanted to make out the processes of this abnormal mind.  He wrinkled his brows, and thought very hard over it.

“See here, Mr. Carpenter,” he began at last, “I tink you got hold o’ de wrong feller.  I’m a verkin’ man, de same as any mechanic on my lot.  I verked ever since I vas a liddle boy, and if I eat too much now, maybe it’s because I didn’t get enough ven I vas liddle.  And maybe I got more money dan vot I got a right to, but I know dis—­I ain’t never had enough to do half vot I vant to!  But dere’s plenty fellers got ten times vot I got, and never done a stroke o’ vork fer it.  Dey’re de vuns y’oughter git after!”

Said Carpenter:  “I would, if I knew how.”

“Dey’s plenty of ’em right in dis room, I bet.”  And Mary added:  “Ask Billy; he knows them all!”

“You flatter me, Mary,” I laughed.