The Albany Depot | Page 8

know how to put it more delicately now. And I won't

complicate you with McIlheny any more. I'll just step out here--"
Roberts: "No, no, no! You mustn't go, Willis. You mustn't indeed! I
shouldn't know what to do with that tipsy nuisance. Ah, here he comes
again!"
Campbell, cheerily, to the approaching McIlheny: "I hope you didn't
lose your train, Mr. McIlheny!"
McIlheny, darkly: "Never moind my thrain, sor! My wife says it was a
put-up jahb between ye. She says ye were afther laughun', and lukun'
and winkun' at her before this mahn slipped up to spake to her. Now
what do ye make of that?"
Campbell: "We were laughing, of course. I had been laughing at my
friend's predicament, in being left to meet a lady he'd never seen before.
You laughed at it yourself."
McIlheny: "I did, sor."
Roberts, basely truckling to him: "It was certainly a ludicrous position."
Campbell: "And when we explained it, it amused your good lady too.
She laughed as much as yourself--"
McIlheny: "She did, sor. Ye're right. Sure it would make a cow laugh.
Well, gintlemen, ye must excuse me. Mrs. McIlheny says I mustn't stop
for the next thrain, and I'll have to ask you to join me in that glass of
wine some other toime."
Campbell: "Oh, it's all right, Mr. McIlheny. You've only got about half
a minute." He glances at the clock, and McIlheny runs out, profusely
waving his hand in adieu.
Roberts, taking out his handkerchief and wiping his forehead: "Well,
thank Heaven! we're rid of him at last."
Campbell: "I'm not so sure of that. He'll probably miss the train. You
may be sure Mrs. McIlheny is waiting for him outside of it, and then

we shall have them both on our hands indefinitely. We shall have to
explain and explain. Fiction has entirely failed us, and I feel that the
truth is giving way under our feet. I'll tell you what, Roberts!"
Roberts, in despair: "What?"
Campbell: "Why, if McIlheny should happen to come back alone, we
mustn't wait for him to renew his invitation to drink; we must take him
out ourselves, and get him drunk; so drunk he can't remember anything;
stone drunk; dead drunk. Or, that is, you must. I haven't got anything to
do with him. I wash my hands of the whole affair."
Roberts: "You mustn't, Willis! You know I can't manage without you.
And you know I can't take the man out and get him drunk. I couldn't. I
shouldn't feel that it was right."
Campbell: "Yes, I know. You'd have to drink with him; and you've got
no head at all. You'd probably get drunk first, and I don't know what I
should say to Agnes."
Roberts: "That isn't the point, Willis. I couldn't ask the man to drink; I
should consider it immoral. Besides, what should you do if the cook
came while I was away? You wouldn't know her."
Campbell: "Well, neither would you, if you stayed."
Roberts: "That's true. There doesn't seem to be any end of it, or any
way out of it. I must just stay and bear it."
Campbell: "Of course you must stay. And when McIlheny comes back,
you'd better ask him out to look upon the wine when it is red."
Roberts: "No; that's impossible, quite. I shouldn't mind the
association--though it isn't very pleasant; but to offer drink to a man
already--Do you suppose it would do to ask him out for a glass of soda?
Plain soda would be good for him. Or I could order claret in it, if the
worst came to the worst."

Campbell: "Claret! What Mr. McIlheny requires is forty-rod whiskey in
a solution of sulphuric acid. You must take that, or fourth-proof brandy
straight, with him."
Roberts, miserably: "I couldn't; you know I couldn't."
Campbell: "What are you going to do, then?"
Roberts: "I don't know; I don't know. I--I'll give him in charge to a
policeman."
Campbell: "And make a scandal here?"
Roberts: "Of course it can't be done!"
Campbell: "Of course it can't. Give a councilman in charge? The
policeman will be Irish too, and then what'll you do? You're more
likely to be carried off yourself, when the facts are explained. They'll
have an ugly look in the police report."
Roberts: "Oh, it can't be done! Nothing can be done! I wish Agnes
would come!"
The Colored Man who calls the Trains: "Cars ready for South
Framingham, Whitneys, East Holliston, Holliston, Metcalf's, Braggville,
and Milford. Express to Framingham. Milford Branch. Track No. 3."

V
_MRS. ROBERTS, MRS. CAMPBELL, ROBERTS, AND
CAMPBELL; THEN THE COOK AND McILHENY_
Mrs. Roberts, rushing in and looking about in a flutter, till she
discovers her husband: "Good gracious, Edward! Is that our train? I ran