but this he had not done, and the result was that at
three o'clock Jarley found himself in the attic involved in a furious
game, in which he represented variously Harvard, the goal, the
goal-posts, the referee, and acting with too great frequency as
understudy for the ball. What he was not, Jack was, and the worst part
of it was that there was no tiring Jack. The longer he played, the
better he liked it. The oftener Jarley's shins received kicks intended
for the football, the louder he laughed. When Jarley, serving as a
goal-post, stood at one end of the attic, Jarley junior, standing
several yards away, often appeared to mistake him for two goal-posts,
and to make an honest effort to kick the ball through him. Slowly the
hours passed, until finally six o'clock struck, and Master Jack's supper
was announced.

The day was over at last. Wearily Jarley dragged himself down the stairs
and reckoned up the day's losses. In glass and bric-a-brac destroyed he
was some twenty or thirty dollars out. In mayonnaise dressing lost at
dinner through the untoward act of the football he was out one
pleasurable sensation to his palate, and Jarley was one of those, to
whom, that is a loss of an irreparable nature. In bodily estate he was
practically a bankrupt. Had he bicycled all morning and played golf all
the afternoon he could not have been half so weary. Had he been thrown
from a horse flat upon an asphalt pavement he could not have been half
so bruised; all of which Mrs. Jarley considerately noted, and with an
effort recovered her amiability for her husband's sake, so that after
eight o'clock, at which hour Jack retired to bed, a little rest was
obtainable, and Jarley's equanimity was slowly restored.

"Well," said Mrs. Jarley, as they went up-stairs at eleven, "it hasn't
been a very peaceful day, has it, dear?"

"Oh, that all depends on how you spell peace. If you spell it p-i-e-c-e,
it's been full of pieces," returned Jarley, with a smile; "but I say, my
dear, I want to modify my statement last night that I had nothing to be
thankful for. I have discovered one great blessing."

"What's that--a football?" queried Mrs. Jarley.

"Not by ten thousand long shots!" cried Jarley. "No, indeed. It's this:
I'm more thankful than I can express that Jack is not twins. If he had
been, you'd have been a widow this evening."

HARRY AND MAUDE AND I--ALSO JAMES

We both loved Maude deeply, and Maude loved us. We know that, because