lar bill, and there
was a hungry-looking man at the corner of Fourteenth Street, who offered
them to me for a quarter. So we had to go over to the cigar store to get
the note broken up into elementals. The fellow really looked as if he
needed money a great deal more than roses, so I gave him a dollar."

"But then why didn't you take a dollar's worth of flowers?" asked
Frieda, high-priestess of the poetic brush, who is a practical woman, if
ever there was one.

"Never thought of it," I acknowledged; "besides, he had only three
bunches left."

"And so you didn't want to clean out his stock in trade. Never mind,
Dave, it was very sweet of you."

She hurried away, and, finally, I heard the front door closing, after
which I made a clean copy of that dog story, flattering myself that it
had turned out rather neatly. It was finished at two o'clock, and I went
to bed.

The next morning was a Sunday. I dawdled at length over my dressing and
sallied forth at eleven, after Mrs. Milliken had knocked at my door
twice to know if she could make the room. If I were an Edison, I should
invent an automatic room-making and womanless contrivance. These great
men, after all, do little that is truly useful and practical.

My neighbor's door was open. I coughed somewhat emphatically, after
which I discreetly knocked upon the doorframe.

"Come in, Mr. Cole," said a cheery, but slightly husky, voice. "Come in
and look at the darling."

"That was my purpose, Madame Dupont," I said most veraciously.

"Eulalie has gone out again," I was informed, after the infant had been
duly exhibited, as it slept with its two fists tightly closed. "She has
gone for a box of Graham crackers and the Sunday paper."

I smiled, civilly, and opined that the day's heat would not be so
oppressing.

"Don't you want to sit down for a moment?" she asked me.

I was about to obey, when I heard the elephantine step of the
washerwoman's sister, who entered, bearing her parcels and the _Courrier
des Etats Unis_.

"Excuse me for just a second," said the husky little voice.

I bowed and looked out of the window, upon yards where I caught the
cheery note of a blooming wisteria.

Suddenly, there came a cry. The bedsprings creaked as the young woman,
who had raised herself upon one elbow, fell back inertly.

"_Oh, mon Dieu!_" bellowed Eulalie, open-mouthed and with helpless arms
hanging down.

I rushed to the bed, with some vague idea of bringing first aid. In