p to it as far as
possible, and so we insist on going by carriage. Hi starts hauling us at
six o'clock, six to a load in dry weather, and he usually gets the last
batch there just in time to begin hauling the first platoon home.

But those are just little troubles for our Smart Set. Your Smart Set has
no troubles except the job of spending its money fast enough to keep
from being smothered by the month's income. It does what it pleases, and
if anybody objects, it raises the price of something or other by way of
retort. But our Smart Set has to live in Homeburg, and what is more, it
has to live off of Homeburg, which is as hoity-toity a place to live
off of as you can find. Sally Singer can't afford to offend any one but
the depositors in the Payley Bank, and if DeLancey caused any Homeburger
to stalk down to his father's bank and extract a thousand-dollar savings
deposit, old man Payley would thrash DeLancey and set him to work on his
farm. They have to show their superiority over us so deftly and
pleasantly that we don't mind it. They have to keep us good-natured
while despising us. With half the genius for contemptuous conciliation
that the Payley and Singer children have displayed in the last five
years, the French nobility could have kept the peasantry yelling for
bread as a privilege long after 1793.

Emma Madigan weighs two hundred pounds and drives a milk route. She went
to high school with Sally Singer, and it is the joy of her life to poke
her head into the Singer home when Sally has company and yell: "Sall,
here's your milk!" But Sally never tries to refrigerate her with the
Spitzbergen glare which she uses on us collectively when she goes to the
theater. You couldn't possibly refrigerate Emma, but you might encourage
her to say more--like the time when Sarah Payley passed her on the
street without speaking, being busy treading the upper altitudes with a
young Princeton College visitor, and Em yelled back: "For goodness'
sakes, Sarey, if you didn't lace so tight you could get your chin down
and see some one!"

But most of us are not so frank. We are too good-natured. As a matter of
fact, we'd hate to see the Payleys and Singers common. They help to make
Homeburg interesting, and so long as they know their place and don't
irritate us, we wouldn't hurt their feelings for the world--that is, not
much.

There was a dancing school in Homeburg two winters ago, and to the
consternation of every one the Payley and