t this instant the errant antonym evidently flashed upon her mental
vision and her pencil hastened to record it and then flew on at
lightning speed.

I was about to try to make an escape when a momentary cessation of
hostilities was caused by the entrance of a moth-eaten, abstracted-looking
man. As the _two-year-old_ hailed him as "fadder", I gathered that he
was the person responsible for the family now fighting at his feet.

"What's the trouble?" he asked helplessly.

"She gave Thag a nickel," explained the eldest boy, "and we want it."

The man drew a sigh of relief. The solution of this family problem was
instantly and satisfactorily met by an impartial distribution of
nickels.

With demoniac whoops of delight, the contestants fled from the room.

I introduced myself to the man of the house, who seemed to realize
that some sort of compulsory conventionalities must be observed. He
looked hopelessly at his wife, and seeing that she was beyond response
to an S O S call to things mundane, he frankly but impressively
informed me that I must expect nothing of them socially as their lives
were devoted to research and study. The children, however, he assured
me, could run over frequently to see us.

I instinctively felt that my call was considered ended, so I took my
departure. I related the details of my neighborly visit to Silvia, but
her sense of humor was not stirred. It was entirely dominated by her
dread of the young Polydores.

"How many children are there?" she asked faintly. "More than the five
you said you counted that first day?"

"They seemed not so many as much. That is, though I suppose in round
numbers there are but five, yet each of those five is equal to at
least three ordinary children."

"Are they all boys? Huldah says the youngest wears dresses."

"Nevertheless he is a boy. They are all unmistakably boys. I think
they must have been born with boots on and," conscious of the imprints
of my shins, "hobnail boots at that. Even the youngest, a two-year
old, seems to have been graduated from Home Rule."

"I can't bear to think of their going to bed hungry," she said
wistfully. "Think of that unnatural mother expecting them to satisfy
their hunger by popcorn."

"They didn't though," I assured her. "I saw them stop a street vender
below here and invest their nickels in hot dogs."

"Hot dogs!" repeated Silvia in horror.

"Wienerwursts," I hastened to interpret.

CHAPTER III

_In Which