e'll fool her
life away doing nothing. Now you poke a few holes in my ideas, Sylvia."

"Please, Aunt Sally, don't think that because I've been to college I can
answer all those questions! I'm just beginning to study them. But the
lady of the daguerreotype in hoops marks one era, and the kodak girl in
a short skirt and shirt-waist another. Women had to spend a good deal of
time proving that their brains could stand the strain of higher
education--that they could take the college courses prescribed for men.
That's all been settled now, but we can't stop there. A college
education for women is all right, but we must help the girl who can't go
to college to do her work well in the office and department store and
factory."

"Or to feed a baby so it won't die of colic, and to keep ptomaine poison
out of her ice box!" added Mrs. Owen.

"Exactly," replied Sylvia.

"Suppose a girl like Marian had gone to college just as you did, what
would it have done for her?"

"A good deal, undoubtedly. It would have given her wider interests and
sobered her, and broadened her chances of happiness."

"Maybe so," remarked Mrs. Owen; and then a smile stole over her face. "I
reckon you can hardly call Marian a kodak girl. She's more like one of
these flashlight things they set off with a big explosion. Only time I
ever got caught in one of those pictures was at a meeting of the
Short-Horn Breeders' Association last week. They fired off that
photograph machine to get a picture for the 'Courier'--I've been
prodding them for not printing more farm and stock news--and a man
sitting next to me jumped clean out of his boots and yelled fire. I had
to go over to the 'Courier' office and see the editor--that Atwill is a
pretty good fellow when you get used to him--to make sure they didn't
guy us farmers for not being city broke. As for Marian, folks like her!"

"No one can help liking her. She's a girl of impulses and her impulses
are all healthy and sound. And her good fellowship and good feeling are
inexhaustible. She came over to see me at Elizabeth House the other
evening--had Allen bring her in his machine and leave her. The girls
were singing songs and amusing themselves in the parlor, and Marian took
off her hat and made herself at home with them. She sang several songs,
and then got to 'cutting up' and did some of those dances she's picked
up somewhere--did them well too. But with all her nonsense she has a lot
of good common sense, and s