elf
which is one of the prices of success. So, as is also often the case at
such times, I was a little mean to Ma on account of having been mean
already--do you get me?

"Mamma," I says. "You certainly are getting heavier. It's a crime for you
to wear these narrow skirts!"

Ma give me a searching look the same as used to lead up to caster oil
when I was a kid, and then took the half of a eclair at one bit before
replying.

"Now Mary Gilligan you needn't take out your artistic temperament or any
other ailment on me!" she says as firmly as the eclair would permit.
"Just because Jim is in France yet, and your moleskin dolman was a
failure and you aint been occupied daily for a week or more, and slipped
up on doing your setting up exercises this morning which I wouldnt of
mentioned only you started it," she says. "Its no excuse for picking on
me," she says. "What if I am a little plump? My Gawd aint I earned the
right to be? What with three kids and your Pa to bring up and the center
trapeese in the circus right through it all except when absolutely
necessary? You dont know what a woman _can_ go through!"

"Dont I, just!" I snapped for my Gawd aint it the truth every woman has
the very worst troubles that any woman ever had? And she sure gets sore
when another woman sets up to go them one better!

"No you don't!" retorts Ma with that maddening air of being older than
me which she uses to squelch me every time she cant get me any other
way. "No you dont!" she says. "You never brought up three kids without a
nurse girl while on the trapeese--you never brought up a thing but two
fool dogs and you even leave them to the carelessness of a personal
maid," she says. "Poor dears, Gawd knows what will become of their
little canine minds and morals!"

"Now Ma!" I begged, because she aughter know that is a sore point with
me and not intention, and she had me on the raw.

"Well then!" she says. "You got a swell job and no troubles only mabe a
sluggish liver and you aint the only woman in America which Gen.
Pershing cant yet spare the husband of," she says. "And mabe I do need
to reduce a little," which was her way of apologizing. And just as this
lull occurred who should come into sight but Maison Rosabelle, her which
runs the shop where myself and all the most chic professionals gets
their clothes. She was all dressed up like a plush horse with real
sables, part of which must of come off them simple refined little gowns
I had