aphorisms of the
philanthropists and publicists, repeated from page to page with wearying
insistence. "I, too, am an American Citizen. S. D.," "As the Twig is
Bent the Tree is Inclined," "Truth Crushed to Earth Will Rise Again,"
"As for Me, Give Me Liberty or Give Me Death," and last of all, a
strange intrusion amongst the mild, well-worn phrases, two legends. "My
motto--Public Control of Public Franchises," and "The P. and S. W. is
an Enemy of the State."

"I see," commented Presley, "you mean the little tad to understand 'the
situation' early."

"I told him he was foolish to give that to Sid to copy," said Mrs.
Dyke, with indulgent remonstrance. "What can she understand of public
franchises?"

"Never mind," observed Dyke, "she'll remember it when she grows up and
when the seminary people have rubbed her up a bit, and then she'll
begin to ask questions and understand. And don't you make any mistake,
mother," he went on, "about the little tad not knowing who her dad's
enemies are. What do you think, boys? Listen, here. Precious little I've
ever told her of the railroad or how I was turned off, but the other
day I was working down by the fence next the railroad tracks and Sid was
there. She'd brought her doll rags down and she was playing house behind
a pile of hop poles. Well, along comes a through freight--mixed train
from Missouri points and a string of empties from New Orleans,--and when
it had passed, what do you suppose the tad did? SHE didn't know I was
watching her. She goes to the fence and spits a little spit after the
caboose and puts out her little head and, if you'll believe me, HISSES
at the train; and mother says she does that same every time she sees a
train go by, and never crosses the tracks that she don't spit her little
spit on 'em. What do you THINK of THAT?"

"But I correct her every time," protested Mrs. Dyke seriously. "Where
she picked up the trick of hissing I don't know. No, it's not funny. It
seems dreadful to see a little girl who's as sweet and gentle as can
be in every other way, so venomous. She says the other little girls at
school and the boys, too, are all the same way. Oh, dear," she sighed,
"why will the General Office be so unkind and unjust? Why, I couldn't
be happy, with all the money in the world, if I thought that even one
little child hated me--hated me so that it would spit and hiss at me.
And it's not one child, it's all of them, so Sidney says; and think of
all the grown