Word received from M. A. K. and Babble, Monday, revealed that those gentlemen will be absent from a duty a week longer, so it is my task to attempt to hold the attention of the readers of this column for another week. My dopes were "not so hot" last week. M. A. K. usually receives from twenty to thirty letters during the week. I only received five. Here goes:

Last week-end, a certain young thing, making her debut in one of the "Elite" circles, found herself in the midst of a discussion that emergency forced her to participate in also. The discussion dealt with Paul Robeson, the artist singer and actor. "O yes", squeeked the poor young thing, "I saw him tap dance up a pair of stairs at the Richmond Fair last month."

A notorious playboy giving the wifey a treat at one of the dances several weeks ago, excused himself for several moments to "join the boys" in a light highball. Wifey of course consented and hubby went smilingly on his way. Towards intermission, hubby was still missing and his little mate about the height of the high-ball he went to consume. The dance ended--hubby was still missing and alas--and also a lady member of the party. Wifey formed conclusions that night which looked out next morning to the effect that, both hubby and "missing lady" were too "tanked" to return to the party. Finis: Next day wifey was rolling dough and the rolling pin slipped and caught hubby "accidentally" on the cheek.

Once certain "high-stepper's" friend reports this incident. Miss "High-Stepper" and her close girl pal rushed home all excited one night with a new frock that a sister had bought and given to her, explaining that sister wanted to remember her thirtieth birthday. All would have been well but said sister, at the moment of speaking, was in a back room with a surprise gift of a birthday cake and had already expressed regrets to hubby that she was only able to give poor "Miss High stepper" a cake that she made. Too bad Miss "High stepper" and "Playboy" didn't take said sister opportunely in their confidence.

This small slice of info deals with a "Flunkie" who has made himself much talked of by him seeming weakness for being a sucker. He breezed into a merry gathering some time ago with his dear "bundle of worry" swinging to his arm. Of course the gang was glad to see the couple enter and male members lost no time in relieving the gentleman of his responsibility. Towards the early morning hour there crept into the fogged mind of friend Flunkie that since he hadn't been able to dance a single number with his "contribution to the party" that it would be Ok. or K. O. if he took her and left. Leaving was suggested, and after much pouting, coats and hats gathered but the gay Romeos stopped this, saying, "Say Pal, you can't go. How about the joke you promised to tell". "Flunkie" weakened and stayed and around 4 A. M. some kindhearted guy brought the Geezer's girl to him and as they left for home, someone heard Sir Flunkie say, "Honey, that's why I don't like parties. All the guys like me and don't want to see me go home".