a
with the right kind of Ammunition.

One night he went to a Small Dance in his regular Henry Miller suit
and wearing a tired look around the Eyes. He counted these minor
Functions a dreadful Bore.

Over in a corner sat a half-portion Damosel who had come to town on a
Visit. Her name was Violet, and she looked the Part.

She didn't know who was running for President or what Miss Pankhurst
said about Suffrage, but she had large belladonna Orbs, with Danger
lurking in their limpid depths.

She was just at the Age when any girl who is not actually Deformed
looks fair to middling, while the real Dinger, with the Tresses and
the Complexion and the gleaming white Shoulders and the Parisian
figure, is right there with a full equipment for breaking up Families.

Old Dare-Devil Dick, the Hero of 1000 Flirtations, was sitting out one
of the Dances recently condemned by Press and Pulpit.

He became aware of the presence of something Feminine at his immediate
right. He took a cautious Look and beheld a timid Debutante, sparkling
with the Dew and waiting to be plucked.

She gave him a frightened Smile and lamped him very slowly.

Suddenly he felt himself wafted away on a cloud of Purple Perfumery.
She had put the Sign on him without lifting a Finger.

His friends tried to save him. They demonstrated, with a Pencil and a
Piece of Paper, that she was just an ordinary, everyday Baby Doll with
a Second Reader intelligence and the Spiritual Caliber of a Humming
Bird. They proved that exactly the same kind were scattered through
every Department Store, working for $6 a week.

When they got thorough knocking, he hurried over and told her
everything and promised her that if she would marry him, not one of
these Snakes would ever be permitted to enter the House.

He writhed on the Rug and said that if she didn't whisper that One
Little Word, it would be a case of Satin Lining and Silver Handles for
little Wallie.

She looked out the Window and yawned slightly and then said, "Oh, very
well."

He rode home standing up in a Taxicab, while she was showing the Maids
a lozenge-shaped Ring that set him back 450 Bucks.

MORAL: The higher they fly the harder they fall.

THE NEW FABLE OF THE SEARCH FOR CLIMATE

Once there was a Gentleman of the deepest dye who was all out of
Kilter. He felt like a list of Symptoms on the outside of a Dollar
Bottle. He looked like the Picture you see in the Almanac entitled,
"Before Takin