f the road."

"Birdie had an engagement this afternoon, too, with a traveling-man; but
I always like to have her home when I entertain."

"I had a lovely afternoon, Mrs. Katzenstein. You and Miss Birdie must
come and see me--One Hundred and Forty-first Street ain't so far away
that you can't get to us."

"Me and Birdie can come almost any afternoon, Mrs. Gump, except Saturday
we go to the matinee--we're great ones for Saturday matinee."

"That's what I call too bad! On Saturday Marcus comes home early, and he
could see you home."

"Well," said Mrs. Katzenstein, plucking a thread off Mrs. Gump's
coat-sleeve, "it's not like there weren't plenty more Saturdays in the
year. I got enough vaudeville shows this year anyway."

"After the third number I always say, 'Mamma, let's go!'--don't I,
mamma?" said Birdie.

"We can come next Saturday, all right, Mrs. Gump; but mind, don't you go
to any trouble for us--Birdie's on a diet, and all I want is a cup of
coffee. It makes my husband so mad when I come home and got no
appetite."

"Good-by, Mrs. Ginsburg. _Ach_, that's right--I forgot; Birdie, write
down Maggie's address for Mrs. Ginsburg. You try her once. She brings
home the clothes so white it's a pleasure to put them away. Tell her I
recommended her. I wish you could see Birdie's shirt-waists come home
from the wash--just like new!"

"I'll try her next week," said Mrs. Ginsburg, buckling her fur
neckpiece.

"Give Adolph my love, Batta. Birdie, help Aunt Batta with her coat. Come
over some evening soon. Good-by, ladies! Come again. Good-by! Be careful
of that step there, Mrs. Gump. Good-by!"

Mrs. Katzenstein clicked the door softly shut and turned to her
daughter. There were high red spots on her cheeks.

"Well," she sighed, "I'm glad that's over."

"Me, too; and I'm sorry enough that Mrs. Gump didn't win those
salt-cellars."

"Such a grand woman as she is--plain and unassuming! He left her real
comfortable, too--not much, but enough for herself. But, to look at her
in that plain black dress, you wouldn't think that she had a son that
might be made manager of the Loeb factory, would you?"

"It is so," agreed Birdie, nibbling from a half-emptied candy-dish on
one of the tables; "and that's just the way with Marcus last night--it
was only accident that he let out that him and Louis Epstein might have
an automobile."

"Plain and unassuming people!" Mrs. Katzenstein exclaimed.

"I says to him when we were in