Girls, listen—if friend hubby comes home to-night and while hurlin\' the cat off his favorite chair, remarks that he\'s got a scheme to make gold out of mud or pennant winners out of the St. Looey Cardinals, don\'t threaten to leave him flat and accuse him of givin\' aid and comfort to the breweries. Turn the gas out under the steak, be seated and register attention—because maybe he has! Scattered around all the department stores, coal mines, butcher shops, the police force and banks, there\'s guys which can sing as well as Caruso, lead a band better than Sousa, stand Dempsey on his ear, show Rockefeller how to make money or teach Chaplin some new falls. Yet these birds go through life on eighteen dollars every Saturday with prospects, and never get their names in the papers unless they get caught in a trolley smash-up. They\'re like a guy with the ice cream concession at the North Pole. They got the goods, but what of it? As far as the universe is concerned it\'s a secret—they\'re there with chimes on, but nobody knows it but them!
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