to any
lodge or political organization.

The outgo of money was as regular as the income--so much for the
contribution-basket on Sundays; so much for the butcher; so much for the
grocer; so much for the coal-oil lamps. The baker got none of their
money and the druggist little.

A few dollars went now and then to the dry-goods store for dress goods,
which Pheeny made up; and Eddie left an occasional sum at the
Pantatorium for a fresh alpaca coat, or for a new pair of trousers when
the seat of the old ones grew too refulgent or perilously extenuate. As
Eddie stood up at his tall desk most of the time, however, it was rather
his shoes than his pantaloons that felt the wear and tear of attrition.

And yet, in spite of all the tender miserhood of Ellaphine and the
asceticism of Eddie, few of the forty-five dollars survived the thirty
days' demands. Still, there was always something for the savings-bank,
and the blessing on its increment was that it grew by exactions from
themselves--not from their neighbors.

The inspiration of the fund was the children that were to be. The fund
had ample time for accretion, since the children were as late as Never
is.

Such things are not discussed, of course, in Carthage. And nobody knew
how fiercely they yearned. Nobody knew of the high hopes that flared and
faded.

After the first few months of marriage Eddie had begun to call Pheeny
"Mother"--just for fun, you know. And it teased her so that he kept it
up, for he liked a joke as well as the next fellow. Before people, of
course, she was "Pheeny," and, on very grand occasions, "the wife."
"Mrs. Pouch" was beyond him. But once, at a sociable, he called across
the room, "Say, mother!"

He was going to ask her whether she wanted him to bring her a piece of
the "chalklut" cake or a hunk of the "cokernut," but he got no farther.
Nobody noticed it; but Eddie and Pheeny were consumed with shame and
slunk home scarlet. Nobody noticed that they had gone.

Time went on and on, and the fund grew and grew--a little coral reef of
pennies and nickels and dimes. The amusements of the couple were
petty--an occasional church sociable was society; a revival period was
drama. They never went to the shows that came to the Carthage Opera
House. They did not miss much.

Eddie wasted no time on reading any fiction except that in the news
columns of the evening paper, which a boy threw on the porch in a
twisted boomerang every afternoon, and which