recalled, with a sharp catch of the Breath and a little tug
of Pain at the Heart, that she had balled herself up at the one Stage
and got dummied out of a Grand Slam.

"It would have meant a long pair of the Silk Kind," thought she, as
she sighed deeply and turned the cold Faucet.

After Breakfast she took a long Walk up the Avenue as a Bracer.

After which to the Kirk, for she taught a class of Little Girls in the
Sunday School, and she had to fake up an Explanation of how Joshua
made the Sun stand still, thereby putting herself in the Scratch
Division of Explainers, believe us.

She listened to a dainty Boston Sermon, trimmed with Ruching, singing
lustily before and after.

Then back home with the solemn Parade to sit among the condemned
waiting for that superlative Gorge known as the Sunday Dinner.

While she was waiting, a male Friend dropped in. His costume was a
compromise between an English Actor and a hired Mourner.

On Week Days he sat at a Desk dictating Letters and saying that the
Matter had been referred to the proper Department.

He looked at Loretta, so calm and cool and collected in her pious
Raiment, and the Smile that he summoned was benevolent and almost
patronizing.

"I was wondering," said he. "I was wondering if a Girl like you ever
gets tired of sitting around and doing nothing."

Loretta did not cackle. She had read in a Book by a Yale Professor
that Woman is not supposed to possess the Sense of Humor.

MORAL: The Settlement Campaign is not getting to the real Workers.

THE NEW FABLE OF THE INTERMITTENT FUSSER

Once a grammar-school Rabbit, struggling from long Trousers toward his
first brier-wood Pipe, had Growing Pains which he diagnosed as the
pangs of True Love.

The Target was a dry-seasoned Fannie old enough to be his Godmother.

She was a Post-Graduate who was keeping herself on Earth by running to
the Drug-Store every few minutes.

The Eye-Brows were neatly blocked out by some Process unknown to the
writer, and she had a Shape that could be revised ad lib.

An Expert would have Made her at a glance, but the Cub fell for the
Scenery and Mechanical Effects.

He had sketched a little synopsis of the Future. After waiting 8
years, until she had unpetaled into the perfect bloom of Womanhood and
he was wearing a Full Beard, he would take her by the Long Glove and
lead her off into Dreamland.

Just to show how one of those pinfeather Passions may be shunted onto
a