however intangable?

I paid a man five dollars to take the Arab to the country and put it in
the aforsaid shed, afterwards hiding the key under a stone outside. But,
although needing relaxation and pleasure during those sad days, I did
not at first take it out, as I felt that another tire would ruin me.

Besides, they had the Pony Cart brought every day, and I had to take
it out, pretending enjoyment I could not feel, since acustomed to forty
miles an hour and even more at times.

I at first invited Tom to drive with me in the Cart, thinking that
merely to be together would be pleasure enough. But at last I was
compeled to face the truth. Although protesting devotion until death,
Tom did not care for the Cart, considering it juvenile for a college
man, and also to small for his legs.

But at last he aranged a plan, which was to take the Cart as far as the
shed, leave it there, and take out the car. This we did frequently, and
I taught Tom how to drive it.

I am not one to cry over spilt milk. But I am one to confess when I have
made a mistake. I do not beleive in laying the blame on Providence when
it belongs to the Other Sex, either.

It was on going down to the shed one morning and finding a lamp gone and
another tire hanging in tatters that I learned the Truth. He who should
have guarded my interests with his very Life, including finances, had
been taking the Arab out in the evenings when I was confined to the
bosom of my Familey, and using up gasoline et cetera besides riding with
whom I knew not.

Eighty-three dollars and 45 cents less thirty-five dollars for a tire
and a bill for gasoline in the village of eight dollars left me, for
the balance of the year, but $40.45 or $3.37 a month! And still a lamp
missing.

It was terrable.

I sat on the running board and would have shed tears had I not been to
angry.

It was while sitting thus, and deciding to return the Frat pin as
costing to much in gasoline and patients, that I percieved Tom coming
down the road. His hand was tied up in a bandige, and his whole
apearance was of one who wishes to be forgiven.

Why, oh, why, must women of my Sex do all the forgiving?

He stood in the doorway so I could see the bandige and would be sorry
for him. But I apeared not to notice him.

"Well?" he said.

I was silent.

"Now look here," he went on, "I'm darned lucky to be here and not dead,
young lady. And if you are going to make a fuss, I'm going away and joi