others
and putting her two hands close to it began operations. The Marchioness
fairly hopped up and down with delight when she saw the familiar symbols
of the deaf-and-dumb alphabet, and immediately set her own small white
hands to work on her first sentence:

"Go slow."

Flibbertigibbet nodded emphatically; the conversation was begun again
and continued for half an hour. It was in truth a labor as well as a
work of love. The spelling in both cases was far from perfect and, at
times, puzzling to both parties; but little by little they became used
to each other's erratic symbols together with the queer things for which
they stood, and no conversation throughout the length and breadth of New
York--yes, even of our United States--was ever more enjoyed than by
these three girls. Flibbertigibbet and the Marchioness did the
finger-talking, and Freckles helped with the interpretation. In the
following translation of this first important exchange of social
courtesies, the extremely peculiar spelling, and wild combinations of
vowels in particular, are omitted: but the questions and answers are
given exactly as they were constructed by the opposite neighbors.

"Go slow." This as a word of warning from the Marchioness.

"You bet."

"Isn't this fun?"

"Beats the band."

"What is your name?"

Flibbertigibbet and her chum looked at each other; should it be nickname
or real name? As they were at present in society and much on their
dignity they decided to give their real names.

"Aileen Armagh." Thereupon Flibbertigibbet beat upon her breast to
indicate first person singular possessive. The Marchioness stared at her
for a minute, then spelled rather quickly:

"It's lovely. We call you something else."

"Who's we?"

"Aunt Ruth and I."

"What do you call me?"

"Flibbertigibbet."

"Git off!" cried Flibbertigibbet, recklessly shoving Freckles on to the
floor. "Gee, how'd she know!" And thereupon she jumped to her feet and,
having the broad window sill to herself, started upon a rather
restricted coon dance in order to prove to her opposite neighbor that
the nickname belonged to her by good right. Oh, but it was fun for the
Marchioness! She clapped her hands to show her approval and catching up
the skirt of her dainty white frock, slowly raised one leg at a right
angle to her body and stood so for a moment, to the intense admiration
of the other girls.

"That's what they call me here," said Flibbertigibbet when they