THE HIGHER ABDICATIONCurly the tramp sidled toward the free-lunch counter. He caught
a fleeting glance from the bartender's eye, and stood still, trying
to look like a business man who had just dined at the Menger and
was waiting for a friend who had promised to pick him up in his
motor car. Curly's histrionic powers were equal to the
impersonation; but his make-up was wanting.
The bartender rounded the bar in a casual way, looking up at the
ceiling as though he was pondering some intricate problem of
kalsomining, and then fell upon Curly so suddenly that the roadster
had no excuses ready. Irresistibly, but so composedly that it
seemed almost absendmindedness on his part, the dispenser of drinks
pushed Curly to the swinging doors and kicked him out, with a
nonchalance that almo
