ng voice, inquired whether
twenty-five dollars a month would be considered.

"Maybe," returned the Estate, whereupon the stranger introduced himself,
with a stiff little bow, as Mr. Winslow Merivale.

Mr. Wagboom was favorably impressed with this, as possessing
aristocratic implications.

"The name," he pronounced, "is satisfactory. The sum is satisfactory. It
is, however, essential that the lessor should measure up in character
and status to the standards of the Mordaunt Estate." This he had adapted
from the prospectus of a correspondence school, which had come to him
through the mail, very genteelly worded. "Family man?" he added briskly.

"Yes, sir."

"How many of you?"

"Two."

"Wife?"

"No, sir," said the little man, very low.

"Son? Daughter? What age?"

"I have never been blessed with a child."

"Then who--"

"Willy Woolly would share the house with me, sir."

For the first time the Mordaunt Estate noticed a small, fluffy poodle,
with an important expression, seated behind the railing.

"I don't like dogs," said the Mordaunt Estate curtly.

"Willy Woolly"--Mr. Winslow Merivale addressed his companion--"this
gentleman does not like dogs."

The Mordaunt Estate felt suddenly convicted of social error. The feeling
deepened when Willy Woolly advanced, reckoned him up with an appraising
eye, and, without the slightest loss of dignity, raised himself on his
hind legs, offering the gesture of supplication. He did not, however,
droop his paws in the accepted canine style; he joined them, finger tip
to finger tip, elegantly and piously, after the manner of the
Maiden's Prayer.

The Estate promptly capitulated.

"Some pup!" he exclaimed. "When did you want to move in?"

"At once, if you please."

Before the Estate had finished his artistic improvements on the front
door, the new tenant had begun the transfer of his simple lares and
penates in a big hand-propelled pushcart. The initial load consisted in
the usual implements of eating, sitting, and sleeping. But the burden of
the half-dozen succeeding trips was homogeneous. Clocks. Big clocks,
little clocks, old clocks, new clocks, fat clocks, lean clocks, solemn
clocks, fussy clocks, clocks of red, of green, of brown, of pink, of
white, of orange, of blue, clocks that sang, and clocks that rang,
clocks that whistled, and blared, and piped, and drummed. One by one,
the owner established them in their new domicile, adjusted them, dusted
them, and wo