"
There was a pause, and then the still small voice came again.
"_Mr. Wick is in bed at present. Anything important?_"
I reflected that while I in Chicago was speaking to the hotel clerk at
half-past nine o'clock, the hotel clerk in New York was speaking to me
at eleven. This in itself was enough to make our conversation
disjointed.
"Yes," I responded, "it is important. Ask Mr. Wick to get out of bed."
Sufficient time elapsed to enable poppa to put on his clothes and come
down by the elevator, and then I heard:
"_Mr. Wick is now speaking_."
"Yes, poppa," I replied, "I guess you are. Your old American accent
comes singing across in a way that no member of your family would ever
mistake. But you needn't be stiff about it. Sorry to disturb you."
Poppa and I were often personal in our intercourse. I had not the
slightest hesitation in mentioning his American accent.
"_Hello, Mamie! Don't mention it. What's up? House on fire? Water pipes
burst? Strike in the kitchen? Sound the alarm--send for the
plumber--raise Gladys's wages and sack Marguerite_.
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