Showing Off.
Somesix or seven years ago, there lived in Portland, a rather notorious young chap, named Otto Prag. He was a messenger boy, private detective, playwright, actor, candidate for councilman, friend to the newsboys, etc.
About 1907, he went to Spokane, where he pursued his various callings, adding that of candidate for United States Senator to the rest of his business qualifications. He, however, found himself “crushed” in his vaunting ambition and he took up the collection of bad debts to gain a livelihood.
Notwithstanding the fact that Arthur Green and Harry Murphy had immortalized the name of Otto Prag in the columns of the Oregonian, the young man prevailed upon the Washington Legislature to allow him to adopt the name of Arthur Prague, in lieu of his former family cognomen.
Arthur Prague, as he is known now in Spokane became a benedict some three years ago and is now the proud father of a very lively boy. This diminutive little chap is very interesting, and possessing a mercurial nature, makes the fact patent that he is in existence.
The writer was recently in Spokane for a few days, and ran across the young man of varied occupations.
“I want you to come out to my house and see my baby and my piano and take dinner with me and my wife,” said the ex-playwright. “You will have a nice time and I’ll feed you well, you must come.”
Yielding to these importunities, a day was set and an automobile took us to the Pragues.
Introductions to the family speedily followed, and the baby, Webster by name, came in for a large share of attention. He was dandled and tossed in the air till he fairly shrieked with joy.
“Come, let me show you my $550 piano and my $250 phonograph. And here’s dinner, too, and I’ll tell you what I have for you to eat today. There is two kinds of soup, oyster and consomme, then there are three sirloin steaks, some ham and boulogne sausage, a dozen hard boiled eggs, tea, coffee and milk, there is three kinds of pie, mince, lemon and custard, two kinds of cake, some canned strawberries and peaches, two kinds of cheese, mashed potatoes, pickles, chow chow, apple sauce and ice cream and it is all on the table to save time.”
The table was set for eight persons, but there were only four of us to partake of this banquet, including the baby. Every available bit of space on the table was covered and there was enough edibles in sight to feed 20 hungry laborers.
Arthur sat at the head of the table, his young hopeful on his right and the writer at the foot, the little wife flitting around to add a little more to her already elaborate dinner.
“I say, Hazel, I want to have our guest hear our $550 piano, please play us some rag time while we eat.”
There was no use protesting and the dutiful spouse sat down to the piano and began to play, when the telephone rang and the young papa went out to answer it.
Little wee Webster set up a yell, but the mother was so bent on her rag time piece that she did not notice him.
Involuntarily the writer’s hands went up into the air, as if describing the tossing up with which he had been indulging the child. This was invitation enough for theyoungster, who started for the other end of the table regardless of any seeming obstacles in the way. He bounded out of his high chair, plunking his fat little fists into the consomme, one foot kicking over the custard pie. Tea, coffee and milk were brushed ruthlessly aside, the dozen hard boiled eggs met an ignominious fate on the floor and the apple sauce and canned berries were tipped over. Halting for a moment in the middle of the table where he squatted in the center of three sirloin steaks, he proceeded to his journey’s end, creating havoc and destruction in his wake. Everything seemed to be a target for the youngsters efforts, and just as he was about to spring in triumph into his guest’s arms, both parents arrived on the scene of such wanton destruction. The boy had done a complete job and the tempting viands of a few moments before became immediate “candidates” for the little barrel furnished by the garbage man.
Recriminations between the “newly-weds” and apologies for Master Webster’s rudeness were in order, but the occurrence was so humorous that the whilom guest is still enjoying the memories of the untouched dinner with the Prague family.