ge and surrounded by
Crawling Slaves.

When a certain Markee crawled into her Lap and purred into her Ear and
threatened to curl up on the Rug and die if she Refused him, she simply
keeled over with Excitement.

After she recovered, she found herself actually Engaged to the
Representative of one of the Oldest Families in the Saucisson District
of the Burgoo Province and as manly a Chap as ever borrowed Money from
a Toe-Dancer.

She hurried home to keep it out of the Newspapers and to tell those who
would listen that American Men were Impossible. Then the Markee came
over with his Solicitor and a Bottle of Chloroform and a full kit of
Surgical Instruments, and the Wedding was fully reported by the
Associated Press.

The Captain of Industry sized up Son-in-Law, and knew that when the
Money was gone the Markee could always get a job hanging up Hats in the
Check-Room of a first-class Table d'Hote Restaurant.

From the window of her Chateau in the Burgoo Province the Lady Cashier
can see the American Tourists going by in their hired Motor Cars. Her
Cheek flushes with Delight when she happens to remember that in another
Three Months or so, Friend Husband will come home long enough to show
her where to sign her Name.

What is more, she has the Privilege of walking out at any time and
picking Flowers with the Understanding that she is not to let it be
known that she is related to any of her Relatives on either side of the
Atlantic.

MORAL: Europeans made the Money and they had a Right to pull it down.

THE TWO UNFETTERED BIRDS

Once there was a Girl with a gleaming New Hampshire Forehead who used
to exchange helpful Books with a studious young Man who had an
Intellect of high Voltage.

It will not be necessary to name these Gazooks, as you never heard of
them.

Laura and Edgar were Comrades, in a way. They met under the Student
Lamp and talked about Schopenhauer and Walter Pater, but the Affair
never got beyond that Point. It was not even warm enough to be called
Platonic. It carried about as much Romantic Suggestion as a cold Hot
Water Bag.

There grew up between them merely a Fellowship of the Super-Mind, or
what a Wimp wearing Tortoise-Shell Spectacles would call Cosmahogany.

Having cleared away the Underbrush, we will now proceed with the
Narrative.

Like every other Member of the Tribe of Mansard Mentalities, they
regarded with much Contempt the School of Popular Fiction.

Do you think they w