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Man About Town

Short Stories

"Fox-in-the-Morning"

A Bird of Bagdad

A Blackjack Bargainer

A Call Loan

A Chaparral Christmas Gift

A Chaparral Prince

A Comedy in Rubber

A Cosmopolite in a Cafe

A Departmental Case

A Dinner at--------*

A Double-Dyed Deceiver

A Fog in Santone

A Harlem Tragedy

A Lickpenny Lover

A Little Local Colour

A Little Talk about Mobs

A Madison Square Arabian Night

A Matter of Mean Elevation

A Midsummer Knight's Dream

A Midsummer Masquerade

A Municipal Report

A Newspaper Story

A Night in New Arabia

A Philistine in Bohemia

A Poor Rule

A Ramble in Aphasia

A Retrieved Reformation

A Ruler of Men

A Sacrifice Hit

A Service of Love

A Snapshot at the President

A Strange Story

A Technical Error

A Tempered Wind

According to Their Lights

After Twenty Years

An Adjustment of Nature

An Afternoon Miracle

An Apology

An Unfinished Christmas Story

An Unfinished Story

Aristocracy Versus Hash

Art and the Bronco

At Arms With Morpheus

Babes in the Jungle

Best-Seller

Between Rounds

Bexar Scrip No. 2692

Blind Man's Holiday

Brickdust Row

Buried Treasure

By Courier

Calloway's Code

Caught

Cherchez La Femme

Christmas by Injunction

Compliments of the Season

Confessions of a Humorist

Conscience in Art

Cupid a La Carte

Cupid's Exile Number Two

Dickey

Dougherty's Eye-Opener

Elsie in New York

Extradited from Bohemia

Fickle Fortune or How Gladys Hustled

Friends in San Rosario

From Each According to His Ability

From the Cabby's Seat

Georgia's Ruling

Girl

He Also Serves

Hearts and Crosses

Hearts and Hands

Helping the Other Fellow

Holding Up a Train

Hostages to Momus

Hygeia at the Solito

Innocents of Broadway

Jeff Peters as a Personal Magnet

Jimmy Hayes and Muriel

Law and Order

Let Me Feel Your Pulse

Little Speck in Garnered Fruit

Lord Oakhurst's Curse

Lost on Dress Parade

Madame Bo-Peep, of the Ranches

Makes the Whole World Kin

Mammon and the Archer

Man About Town

Masters of Arts

Memoirs of a Yellow Dog

Modern Rural Sports

Money Maze

Nemesis and the Candy Man

New York by Camp Fire Light

Next to Reading Matter

No Story

October and June

On Behalf of the Management

One Dollar's Worth

One Thousand Dollars

Out of Nazareth

Past One at Rooney's

Phoebe

Proof of the Pudding

Psyche and the Pskyscraper

Queries and Answers

Roads of Destiny

Roses, Ruses and Romance

Rouge et Noir

Round the Circle

Rus in Urbe

Schools and Schools

Seats of the Haughty

Shearing the Wolf

Ships

Shoes

Sisters of the Golden Circle

Smith

Sociology in Serge and Straw

Sound and Fury

Springtime a La Carte

Squaring the Circle

Strictly Business

Strictly Business

Suite Homes and Their Romance

Telemachus, Friend

The Admiral

The Adventures of Shamrock Jolnes

The Assessor of Success

The Atavism of John Tom Little Bear

The Badge of Policeman O'Roon

The Brief Debut of Tildy

The Buyer From Cactus City

The Caballero's Way

The Cactus

The Caliph and the Cad

The Caliph, Cupid and the Clock

The Call of the Tame

The Chair of Philanthromathematics

The Champion of the Weather

The Church with an Overshot-Wheel

The City of Dreadful Night

The Clarion Call

The Coming-Out of Maggie

The Complete Life of John Hopkins

The Cop and the Anthem

The Count and the Wedding Guest

The Country of Elusion

The Day Resurgent

The Day We Celebrate

The Defeat of the City

The Detective Detector

The Diamond of Kali

The Discounters of Money

The Dog and the Playlet

The Door of Unrest

The Dream

The Duel

The Duplicity of Hargraves

The Easter of the Soul

The Emancipation of Billy

The Enchanted Kiss

The Enchanted Profile

The Ethics of Pig

The Exact Science of Matrimony

The Ferry of Unfulfilment

The Fifth Wheel

The Flag Paramount

The Fool-Killer

The Foreign Policy of Company 99

The Fourth in Salvador

The Friendly Call

The Furnished Room

The Gift of the Magi

The Girl and the Graft

The Girl and the Habit

The Gold That Glittered

The Greater Coney

The Green Door

The Guardian of the Accolade

The Guilty Party - An East Side Tragedy

The Halberdier of the Little Rheinschloss

The Hand that Riles the World

The Handbook of Hymen

The Harbinger

The Head-Hunter

The Hiding of Black Bill

The Higher Abdication

The Higher Pragmatism

The Hypotheses of Failure

The Indian Summer of Dry Valley Johnson

The Lady Higher Up

The Last Leaf

The Last of the Troubadours

The Lonesome Road

The Lost Blend

The Lotus And The Bottle

The Love-Philtre of Ikey Schoenstein

The Making of a New Yorker

The Man Higher Up

The Marionettes

The Marquis and Miss Sally

The Marry Month of May

The Memento

The Missing Chord

The Moment of Victory

The Octopus Marooned

The Passing of Black Eagle

The Pendulum

The Phonograph and the Graft

The Pimienta Pancakes

The Plutonian Fire

The Poet and the Peasant

The Pride of the Cities

The Princess and the Puma

The Prisoner of Zembla

The Proem

The Purple Dress

The Ransom of Mack

The Ransom of Red Chief

The Rathskeller and the Rose

The Red Roses of Tonia

The Reformation of Calliope

The Remnants of the Code

The Renaissance at Charleroi

The Roads We Take

The Robe of Peace

The Romance of a Busy Broker

The Rose of Dixie

The Rubaiyat of a Scotch Highball

The Rubber Plant's Story

The Shamrock and the Palm

The Shocks of Doom

The Skylight Room

The Sleuths

The Snow Man

The Social Triangle

The Song and the Sergeant

The Sparrows in Madison Square

The Sphinx Apple

The Tale of a Tainted Tenner

The Theory and the Hound

The Thing's the Play

The Third Ingredient

The Trimmed Lamp

The Unknown Quantity

The Unprofitable Servant

The Venturers

The Vitagraphoscope

The Voice of the City

The Whirligig of Life

The World and the Door

Thimble, Thimble

Tictocq

To Him Who Waits

Tobin's Palm

Tommy's Burglar

Tracked to Doom

Transformation of Martin Burney

Transients in Arcadia

Two Recalls

Two Renegades

Two Thanksgiving Day Gentlemen

Ulysses and the Dogman

Vanity and Some Sables

What You Want

While the Auto Waits

Whistling Dick's Christmas Stocking

Witches' Loaves







There were two or three things that I wanted to know. I do not care
about a mystery. So I began to inquire.

It took me two weeks to find out what women carry in dress suit
cases. And then I began to ask why a mattress is made in two pieces.
This serious query was at first received with suspicion because it
sounded like a conundrum. I was at last assured that its double form
of construction was designed to make lighter the burden of woman, who
makes up beds. I was so foolish as to persist, begging to know why,
then, they were not made in two equal pieces; whereupon I was
shunned.

The third draught that I craved from the fount of knowledge was
enlightenment concerning the character known as A Man About Town.
He was more vague in my mind than a type should be. We must have a
concrete idea of anything, even if it be an imaginary idea, before we
can comprehend it. Now, I have a mental picture of John Doe that is
as clear as a steel engraving. His eyes are weak blue; he wears a
brown vest and a shiny black serge coat.

He stands always in the sunshine chewing something; and he keeps
half-shutting his pocket knife and opening it again with his thumb.
And, if the Man Higher Up is ever found, take my assurance for it, he
will be a large, pale man with blue wristlets showing under his
cuffs, and he will be sitting to have his shoes polisbed within sound
of a bowling alley, and there will be somewhere about him turquoises.

But the canvas of my imagination, when it came to limning the Man
About Town, was blank. I fancied that he bad a detachable sneer
(like the smile of the Cheshire cat) and attached cuffs; and that was
all. Whereupon I asked a newspaper reporter about him.

"Why," said he, "a 'Man About Town' something between a 'rounder' and
a 'clubman.' He isn't exactly--well, he fits in between Mrs. Fish's
receptions and private boxing bouts. He doesn't--well, he doesn't
belong either to the Lotos Club or to the Jerry McGeogheghan
Galvanised Iron Workers' Apprentices' Left Hook Chowder Association.
I don't exactly know how to describe him to you. You'll see him
everywhere there's anything doing. Yes, I suppose he's a type.
Dress clothes every evening; knows the ropes; calls every policeman
and waiter in town by their first names. No; he never travels with
the hydrogen derivatives. You generally see him alone or with
another man."

My friend the reporter left me, and I wandered further afield. By
this time the 3126 electric lights on the Rialto were alight. People
passed, but they held me not. Paphian eyes rayed upon me, and left
me unscathed. Diners, heimgangers, shop-girls, confidence men,
panhandlers, actors, highwaymen, millionaires and outlanders hurried,
skipped, strolled, sneaked, swaggered and scurried by me; but I took
no note of them. I knew them all; I had read their hearts; they had
served. I wanted my Man About Town. He was a type, and to drop him
would be an error--a typograph--but no! let us continue.

Let us continue with a moral digression. To see a family reading the
Sunday paper gratifies. The sections have been separated. Papa is
earnestly scanning the page that pictures the young lady exercising
before an open window, and bending--but there, there! Mamma is
interested in trying to guess the missing letters in the word N_w
Yo_k. The oldest girls are eagerly perusing the financial reports,
for a certain young man remarked last Sunday night that he had taken
a flyer in Q., X. & Z. Willie, the eighteen-year-old son, who
attends the New York public school, is absorbed in the weekly article
describing how to make over an old skirt, for he hopes to take a
prize in sewing on graduation day.

Grandma is holding to the comic supplement with a two-hours' grip;
and little Tottie, the baby, is rocking along the best she can with
the real estatc transfers. This view is intended to be reassuring,
for it is desirable that a few lines of this story be skipped. For
it introduces strong drink.

I went into a cafe to -- and while it was being mixed I asked the man
who grabs up your hot Scotch spoon as soon as you lay it down what he
undcrstood by the term, epithet, description, designation,
characterisation or appellation, viz.: a "Man About Town."

"Why," said he, carefully, "it means a fly guy that's wise to the
all-night push--see? It's a hot sport that you can't bump to the
rail anywhere between the Flatirons--see? I guess that's about what
it means."

I thanked him and departed.

On the sidewalk a Salvation lassie shook her contribution receptacle
gently against my waistcoat pocket.

"Would you mind telling me," I asked her, "if you ever meet with the
character commonly denominated as 'A Man About Town' during your
daily wanderings?"

"I think I know whom you mean," she answered, with a gentle smile.
"We see them in the same places night after night. They are the
devil's body guard, and if the soldiers of any army are as faithful
as they are, their commanders are well served. We go among them,
diverting a few pennies from their wickedness to the Lord's service."

She shook the box again and I dropped a dime into it.

In front of a glittering hotel a friend of mine, a critic, was
climbing from a cab. He seemed at leisure; and I put my question to
him. He answered me conscientiously, as I was sure he would.

"There is a type of 'Man About Town' in New York," he answered. "The
term is quite familiar to me, but I don't think I was ever called
upon to define the character before. It would be difficult to point
you out an exact specimen. I would say, offhand, that it is a man
who had a hopeless case of the peculiar New York disease of wanting
to see and know. At 6 o'clock each day life begins with him. He
follows rigidly the conventions of dress and manners; but in the
business of poking his nose into places where he does not belong he
could give pointers to a civet cat or a jackdaw. He is the man who
has chased Bohemia about the town from rathskeller to roof garden and
from Hester street to Harlem until you can't find a place in the city
where they don't cut their spaghetti with a knife. Your 'Man About
Town' has done that. He is always on the scent of something new. He
is curiosity, impudence and omnipresence. Hansoms were made for him,
and gold-banded cigars; and the curse of music at dinner. There are
not so many of him; but his minority report is adopted everywhere.

"I'm glad you brought up the subject; I've felt the influence of this
nocturnal blight upon our city, but I never thought to analyse it
before. I can see now that your 'Man About Town' should havc been
classified long ago. In his wake spring up wine agents and cloak
models; and the orchestra 'p1ays 'Let's All Go Up to Maud's' for him,
by request, instead of Handel. He makes his rounds every evening;
while you and I see the elephant once a week. When the cigar store
is raided, he winks at the officer, familiar with his ground, and
walks away immune, while you and I search among the Presidents for
names, and among the stars for addresses to give the desk sergeant."

My friend, the critic, paused to acquire breath for fresh eloquence.
I seized my advantage.

"You have classified him," I cried with joy. "You have painted his
portrait in the gallery of city types. But I must meet one face to
face. I must study the Man About Town at first hand. Where shall I
find him? How shall I know him?"

Without seeming to hear me, the critic went on. And his cab-driver
was waiting for his fare, too.

"He is the sublimated essence of Butt-in; the refined, intrinsic
extract of Rubber; the concentrated, purified, irrefutable,
unavoidable spirit of Curiosity and Inquisitiveness. A new sensation
is the breath in his nostrils; when his experience is exhausted he
explores new fields with the indefatigability of a--"

"Excuse me," I interrupted, "but can you produce one of this type?
It is a new thing to me. I must study it. I will search the town
over until I find one. Its habitat must be here on Broadway."

"I am about to dine here," said my friend. "Come inside, and if
there is a Man About Town present I will point him out to you. I
know most of the regular patrons here."

"I am not dining yet," I said to him. "You will excuse me. I am
going to find my Man About Town this night if I have to rake New
York from the Battery to Little Coney Island."

I left the hotel and walked down Broadway. The pursuit of my type
gave a pleasant savour of life and interest to the air I breathed.
I was glad to be in a city so great, so complex and diversified.
Leisurely and with something of an air I strolled along with my heart
expanding at the thought that I was a citizen of great Gotham, a
sharer in its magnificence and pleasures, a partaker in its glory and
prestige.

I turned to cross the street. I heard something buzz like a bee, and
then I took a long, pleasant ride with Santos-Dumont.

When I opened my eyes I remembered a smell of gasoline, and I said
aloud: "Hasn't it passed yet?"

A hospital nurse laid a hand that was not particularly soft upon my
brow that was not at all fevered. A young doctor came along,
grinned, and handed me a morning newspaper.

"Want to see how it happened?" he asked cheerily. I read the
article. Its headlines began where I heard the buzzing leave off
the night before. It closed with these lines:

Bellevue Hospital, where it was said that his injuries were not
serious. He appeared to be a typical Man About Town."




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