light gasp, and accepted
the invitation. Side by side, the two passed through the open gate,
walked gravely forth upon the lawn, and halted, as by common consent.
Jane thereupon placed her feet wide apart and leaned backward upon
nothing, attempting the feat in contortion just performed by the
stranger.

"Look," she said. "Look at ME!"

But she lacked the other's genius, lost her balance, and fell. Born
persistent, she immediately got to her feet and made fresh efforts.

"No! Look at ME!" the little girl cried, becoming semicircular again.
"This is the way. I call it 'puttin' your stummick out o' joint.' You
haven't got yours out far enough."

"Yes, I have," said Jane, gasping.

"Well, to do it right, you must WALK that way. As soon as you get your
stummick out o' joint, you must begin an' walk. Look! Like this." And
the little girl, having achieved a state of such convexity that her
braided hair almost touched the ground behind her, walked successfully
in that singular attitude.

"I'm walkin'," Jane protested, her face not quite upside down. "Look!
I'M walkin' that way, too. My stummick--"

There came an outraged shout from above, and a fierce countenance,
stained with ink, protruded from the window.

"Jane!"

"What?"

"Stop that! Stop putting your stomach out in front of you like that!
It's disgraceful!"

Both young ladies, looking rather oppressed, resumed the perpendicular.
"Why doesn't he like it?" the stranger asked in a tone of pure wonder.

"I don't know," said Jane. "He doesn't like much of anything. He's
seventeen years old."

After that, the two stared moodily at the ground for a little while,
chastened by the severe presence above; then Jane brightened.

"_I_ know!" she exclaimed, cozily. "Let's play callers. Right here by
this bush 'll be my house. You come to call on me, an' we'll talk
about our chuldren. You be Mrs. Smith an' I'm Mrs. Jones." And in the
character of a hospitable matron she advanced graciously toward the new
neighbor. "Why, my dear Mrs. SMITH, come right IN! I THOUGHT you'd call
this morning. I want to tell you about my lovely little daughter. She's
only ten years old, an' says the brightest THINGS! You really must--"

But here Jane interrupted herself abruptly, and, hopping behind the
residential bush, peeped over it, not at Mrs. Smith, but at a boy of ten
or eleven who was passing along the sidewalk. Her expression was gravely
interested, somewhat complacent; and Mrs.