getic; but she found this a real hardship now. The
hot, close bedrooms, odorous of perfume and cigarette smoke, the grayish
sheets and thin blankets were odious to her; she longed to set fire to
the whole, and start afresh, with clean new furnishings.

Presently Connie asked her if she would care to talk to a manager about
going on an "eleven weeks' circuit," as assistant to a sleight-of-hand
performer.

"Twenty a week," said Connie, "and a whole week in Sacramento and
another in Los Angeles. All you have to do is wear a little suit like a
page, and hand him things. Rose says he looks like an old devil--I
haven't seen him, but you can sit on him easy enough. And the Nevilles
are making the same trip, and she's a real nice woman. Not much, Ju, but
it's a start, and I think we could land it for you."

"Yes, I know," Julia said vaguely.

"Well, wake up!" said Connie briskly. "Do you want it?"

"I'd rather wait until Mama gets here," the younger girl decided
uncomfortably. And that afternoon, in vague hope of news of her mother,
she took a Mission Street car and went out to call on her grandmother.

As usual, old Mrs. Cox's cheap little house reeked of soapsuds and
carbolic acid. Julia, admitted after she had twisted the little gong set
in the panels of the street door, kissed her grandmother in a stifling
dark hall. Mrs. Cox was glad of company, she limped ahead into her
little kitchen, chattering eagerly of her rheumatism and of family
matters. She told Julia that May's children, Evelyn and Marguerite, were
with her, Marguerite holding a position as dipper in a nearby candy
factory, and Evelyn checking in an immense steam laundry.

"How many children _has_ Aunt May now?" Julia asked, sighing.

"She's got too many!" Mrs. Cox said sharply. "A feller like Ed, who
never keeps a position two weeks running, has got no business to raise
such a family! For a while May had two of the boys in a home--"

"Oh, really!" said Julia, distressed.

"Lloyd and Elmer--yes, but they're home again now," the old woman
pursued. "May felt dreadful when they went, but I guess she wasn't so
awfully glad to get them back. Boys make a lot of work."

"Elmer and Lloyd, and then there was Muriel, and another baby?" Julia
asked.

"Muriel and Geraldine, and then the baby, Regina."

"Has Aunt May seven children?" Julia asked, awed.

Mrs. Cox delayed the brewing of a pot of tea while she counted them with
a bony knotted hand. Then she nodde