With monkey signs Claude gave the signal to rush the growler, which was accompanied with a true spirit of goodfellowship by the butler.

   The conversation during the dinner hour was altogether of a zoological nature.

   Claude displayed an acrobatic appetite and went down the line, from soup to nuts, in a manner which was captivating in the extreme.

   After completely filling the large inside pocket originally built for him by Mother Nature, Claude began to put the knives and forks in the pockets of his full dress suit.

   This was greeted with ringing cheers from those present.

   The only break that Claude made during the dinner was trying to put his feet on the table before the ladies left the room, but Llewellyn Shortbrow remedied this by hitting Claude on the chest with a table spoon.

   When the other young men began to smoke their cigarettes Claude grew uneasy.

   After they had consumed about seven sticks apiece Claude buried his face in a foaming stein of beer, and there it remained until a happy unconsciousness put him down and out.

   Eight footmen, six coachmen, twenty-seven valets and the butler carried Claude to his bed-chamber, and the monkey dinner broke up with loud cries of "Author! Author! Author!"

   Vanwigglevandoozen is now the hero of the day, and great things are expected of him.

   But I have my doubts.

   It is too much to expect one brain to think up another idea as good as that.

   Yesterday afternoon at 2:30 a loud shriek emanated from the "Bungalooza Villa," followed almost immediately by its publisher, Mrs. Shinevonboodle.

   Both the shriek and its author came out as far as the gate and attracted the ears of a policeman.

   "My diamonds have been stolen!" exclaimed Mrs. Shinevonboodle, excitedly.

   "For publication purposes or for pawning?" inquired the policeman.

   "Must I tell you the details without first being introduced to you?" said Mrs. Shinevonboodle, angrily.

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