nger, but Darby only blinked at her,
while Juliet flounced petulantly.

"She's high-strung," observed Kenneth, "and a trifle bad-tempered. But
she won't stand scolding. Let's take her out and pet her a little."

"How do you get her out? With a hook and line?"

"No, silly! You must be kind to them. Here, puss, puss, puss! Come,
Jooly-ooly-et! Come!"

But Juliet haughtily ignored the invitation and huddled in the bottom of
the bowl.

"Try this," said Patty, running to the dining-room, and returning with a
silver fish server.

This worked beautifully, and Kenneth scooped up Juliet, who lay quietly
on the broad silver blade, blinking at them reproachfully.

"She's hungry, Ken; see how she opens and shuts her mouth."

"No; she's trying to talk. I told you she was clever. I daresay you can
teach her to sing. She looks just as you do when you take a high note."

"You horrid boy! But she does, really. Anyway, let's feed them. What do
they eat?"

"I brought their food with me; it's some patent stuff, very well
advertised. Here, Julie!"

Gently slipping Juliet back into the water, Ken scattered some food on
the surface.

Both fish rose to the occasion and greedily ate the floating particles.

"That's the trouble," said Ken. "They have no judgment. They overeat, and
then they die of apoplexy. And, too, if they eat too much, you can't
train them to stand on their tails and beg."

"Oh, will they learn to do that? And what else can we teach them?"

"Oh, anything acrobatic; trapeze work and that. But they're sleepy now;
you fed them too much for just an afternoon tea. Let's leave them to
their nap, and train them after they wake up."

"All right; let's sit down and talk seriously."

"Patty, you're always ready to talk seriously of late. That's why I
brought you some Nonsense Fish, to lighten your mood a little."

"Don't you worry about my mood, Ken; it's light enough. But I want you to
help me earn my living for a week. Will you?"

"That I will not! I'll be no party to your foolishness."

"Now, Ken," went on Patty, for she knew his "bark was worse than his
bite," "I don't want you to do anything much. But, in your law office,
where you're studying, aren't there some papers I can copy, or something
like that?"

"Patty, you're a back number. That 'copying' that you mean is all out of
date. In these days of typewriters and manifold thigamajigs, we lawyers
don't have much copying done by hand. Except, perhaps, en