When she began to pick out Snake Rings, and Diamond Wish-Bones, the
Old Gentleman saw that there was no longer any Hope for Joel.

* * * * *

MORAL: When buncoing a Relative always be sure that the Knock-Out
Drops are Regulation Strength.

* * * * *

_TWO YOUNG PEOPLE, TWO PHOTOGRAPHERS AND THE CORRESPONDENCE SCHOOL OF
WOOING_

Once there was a lovely Two-Stepper who went to a Swell Hop and there
met a Corkerina who had come to visit a School Friend.

He gavotted a few Lines with the Lily. They found it very easy to
catch Step together and he did an expert Job of Piloting during the
Waltz so as not to get her mussed up, and the consequence was that he
made a Grand Impression.

Whenever a Debutter goes away to visit a School Friend, she always
meets some Local Adonis who looks to her to be about 60 per cent.
better than the stock of Johnnies in her own Burg. And after a Nice
Girl has had a long and prosperous Run on the Home Circuit and then
begins to curl up on the Edges and show signs of Frost, she will find
it a very wise Shift to try new Territory and the Chances are that she
will make a Ten-Strike.

[Illustration: _The Two-Stepper._]

To prove that this is no Idle Jest, it can be demonstrated that the
marrying Girl usually goes on the Road a while before she closes a
Contract.

The Two-Stepper could not forget the Girl from Another Town. She
pulled out next Day but he looked up the Address and sent her the
Dance Programme that he had found in his Overcoat Pocket. She wrote
back that it was Awfully Sweet of him to remember poor little Me and
then she asked one or two Questions. That gave him a Hunch, so he
bought a new kind of Writing Paper, said to be the Latest Agony, and
he wrote a nice Long Letter in which he told her that she was very
easy to look at, and that when it came to picking them up and setting
them down in the Slow and Dreamy, she made all the other Girls of his
Acquaintance look like a Set of Cripples.

She returned the Serve with one of these chummy Epistles, written on
all sides of the Paper, with the P.S. crawling up one Margin like a
Pea-Vine. She chucked in a few mushy Extracts from the Oatmeal School
of Thought and asked him the Name of his Favorite Poet.

Her Pace was a trifle Swift for Harry J., who had derived his
Education from the Sporting Section of the Daily Papers, but he bought
a Lover's Guide and a