nd turn on the gas in our apartment. With good luck
some result might be obtained by the following evening.

I stumbled miserably up the dark stairs, and dismally explained, while
the Precious Ones became more clamorous for food and light, as the
shades of night gathered. I said I would go and get some candles, so in
case the things came--not necessarily the matting--we didn't really need
the matting first, anyway--it would get scuffed and injured if it were
put down first--it was the other things we needed--things to eat and go
to bed with!--

When I came back there was a wild excitement around our entrance. A
delivery wagon had driven up in great haste, and by the light of the
street lamp I recognized on it the sign of our department store. A
hunted-looking driver had leaped out and was hastily running over his
book. Yes, it was our name--our things had come at last--better late
than never! The driver was diving back into his wagon and presently
hauled out something long and round and wrapped up.

"Here you are," he said triumphantly. "Sign for it, please."

"But," we gasped, "where's the rest of the things? There's ever so much
more."

"Don't know, lady. This is all I've got. Sign please, it's getting
late."

"But----"

He was gone. We carried in our solitary package and opened it by the
feeble flickering of a paraffine dip.

It was a Japanese umbrella-holder!

The Precious Ones and their wretched dolls held a war dance around it
and admired the funny men on the sides. To us it was an Oriental
mockery.

Sadly we gathered up our bags, and each taking by the hand a hungry
little creature who clasped a forlorn doll to a weary little bosom, we
set forth to seek food and shelter in the thronging but pitiless city.

III.

_Learning by Experience._

Day by day, and piece by piece, our purchases appeared. Now and then a
delivery wagon would drive up in hot haste and deliver a stew-pan, or
perhaps a mouse trap. At last, and on the third day, a mattress.

Of course, I had been down and protested, ere this. The cheerful liar at
the transfer desk had been grieved, astonished, thunderstruck at my
tale. He would investigate, and somebody would be discharged, at once.
This thought soothed me. It was blood that I wanted. Just plain blood,
and plenty of it. I know now that it was the transfer-man's blood, that
I needed, but for the moment I was appeased and believed in him.

Our matting, promised within tw