"Now the next of this gang that the poet will chat on,
Is a fellow who's known for keeping his Hatt-on;
In meat, he is rich and in brains he is rare,
And, as to his legs, he has nothing to spare;
He has aeroed by day and motored by night,
Though everyone saw he was pallid with fright."
This brought whoops from Cat and Jimmy and a slightly pained look from the sensitive Legs.
"Cheer up, Legs, and listen to the dose Jimmy gets:
"Now here's to that bold young adventurer Jimmy,
Though he's long on his tongue he can't be called limby;
The wind and the waves had to give him a wide row,
When he jumped over Herring one night in a hydro;
And now, meeting people, he tries hard to stuff 'em,
By claiming he's rescued a sailor named Buffum."
Jimmy here got all that was coming to him from his two chums, and the ginger-ale went its way merrily.
"Now, look here, fellows," exhorted Hardy, "Hope you didn't take that seriously? I meant just the opposite, didn't I, Turner? You're the swellest lot of chaps I know, but I just wanted to see how you'd take a little merry knocking.
