Mr, Angora, an easy-going chap, was called up by a lodge brother who knew a Corker who had a school chum visiting her. They went to call. The school chum proved to be a lemon, and when Mr. Angora wanted to talk baseball she got huffy. She preferred art and literature. On the way home Angora was on the verge of committing murder, but he decided not to. Sometime later Mr. Fyxit had another friend who had a friend, and again Mr. Angora was the goat. They went to a café where he tipped the waiter to call him on the phone. After he had been gone an hour, they decided he wouldn’t be back, so Mr. Fyxit paid the check. Mr. Angora had dug up a wonderful little Flapper who had a friend. They insisted upon going to the skating rink. Angora wasn’t much of a skater, but wasn’t mortally injured, merely knocked out. He had lost his faith in mankind.