ad such a way of
saying just what came into his funny, simple old head, and such a
curious vocabulary. Then, after the banquet, the--Ball!

The girl emitted a deep ecstatic sigh. The ball! It was the crowning
glory, and--she had a beautiful new gown for each event. It was a
ravishing thought. Perhaps a mere man may be forgiven his lack of
imagination in his appreciation of such perfect, unutterable delight.
But Nan had no cloud to obscure her sun. The labor of dressing afresh,
three times in one evening without a maid, except the questionable
assistance of a hotel chambermaid, had no terrors for her--none
whatever.

Her day-dreaming was interrupted by an immoderate thump on the door.
She turned her head at once, her pretty dancing eyes alight with
expectancy.

"That you, Dad?" she called.

"Sure, Nan." Then came a fumbling at the door handle.

"You can come right in," the girl cried, without moving from her chair.

The door was thrust open, and the sunburnt face with its shock of
curling iron gray hair and whiskers appeared round it. The deep-set
eyes surveyed the room, and took on a look of deep concern.

"Say, Nan," he cried, "you'll never git fixed in time. I jest give you
the limit of time before I got around. You see, I didn't fancy you not
gettin' a good slep."

The girl shook her pretty head and smiled as she observed the careful
toilet she felt sure her father had spent the whole afternoon upon.
She sprang from her chair and surveyed him critically, with her head
judicially poised on one side, and her pretty ripe lips slightly pursed.

"Everything's bully but that bow tie," she declared, after a
considering pause. "Just come right here and I'll fix it. Say, Dad, I
envy you men. Was there ever a nicer looking suit for men than evening
clothes? I'm--kind of proud of my Daddy, with his wide chest and good
figure. And that white waistcoat. My, but you don't look as if you'd
ever branded a calf in your life. It's only your dear handsome face
gives you away, and--and the backs of your hands."

Nan laughed as she retied the tie to her satisfaction, the fashion in
which a girl loves to see a bow tied. The man submitted meekly, but
with concern for her final remark.

"But I scrubbed 'em both--sore," he declared anxiously.

"I don't mean they're dirty, Daddy," the girl laughed. "Was there ever
such a simple, simple soul? It's the wholesome mahogany tan which the
wind and the sun have dye