woman of a privilege not to let her trot the
colic out of her own baby," Sallie got near enough in sight of the
discussion to shout softly from the rear.

I have often seen Cousin Martha on one side of the fire trotting the
Pup, and Cousin Jasmine on the other ministrating likewise to the Kit.
so Sallie could take a good nap, which she didn't at all need, on the
long sofa in the living-room at Widegables.

"Ned is a delightful man and, of course, Mamie adores him." Nell agreed
with an attitude of mind like to the attitude of a body sustained on the
top rail of a shaky fence.

"He doubtless would be just as delightful to Mamie standing by dropping
asafetida into a spoon to administer to the baby, as he is dancing with
you at the Assembly, Nell," I said, still frothy around the temper.

"He'll never do it again," was the prompt result I got from my shot.

"The trouble with you, Evelina," said Sallie, with ruminative
reflectiveness in her eyes, "is that you have never been married and do
not understand how noble a man can be under--"

"Yes, I should say that you had hit Evelina's trouble exactly on the
head, Sallie," came in Polk's drawl as he came over the rose hedge from
the side street and seated himself beside Caroline on the steps.

"Well, if I ever have a husband he'll prove his nobility by being
competent to make the correct connection between the asafetida spoon and
his own baby," was the answer that came with so much force that I
couldn't stop it after I fully realized Folk's presence and sex.

"Help!" exclaimed Polk, weakly, while Nell blushed into the fold of her
ruffle, Caroline looked slightly shocked and Sallie wholly scandalized
at my lack of delicacy.

I felt that the place had been reached, the audience provided, and the
time ripe for the first gun in my general revolution planned for
Glendale. I spoke calmly in a perfect panic of fear.

"I am glad Polk is here to speak for the masculine side of the
question," I said, looking all the three astonished women straight in
the face. "Polk, do you or do you not think that a man with a wife and
seven children ought to assume at least some of the domestic strain
resulting therefrom, like dropping the asafetida in the spoon for her
while she is wrestling with the youngest-born's colic?"

"Do I have to answer?" pleaded Polk, with desperation.

"Yes!"

"Then, under the circumstances I think the man ought to say: 'To hell
with the spoon,' grab a gun, go