--_P_,_H_,_O_,_U_,_X_.
O shocking. Have you all tried? _No._
Say Master, but no matter, go--
Lay by your books--and you, Josiah,
Help Jed to make the morning fire.

EVAN ANDERSON'S POKER PARTY

BY BENJAMIN STEVENSON

"Evan Anderson called you up this afternoon," said Mrs. Tom Porter,
laying down the evening paper. "Is his wife still away?"

"Yes, I think she is. What did he want?"

"He did not say, but he said for you to call him as soon as you came
home. I forgot to tell you." Mrs. Porter paused and fingered her paper
with embarrassment. "Tom," she began again, "if it is another of those
men parties he has been having since his wife has been away, I wish you
wouldn't go."

"Why not, dear?"

"I don't think they are very nice. Don't they drink a good deal?"

"Some men will drink a good deal any way--any time, but those that don't
want to do not."

"Tom, do they"--Mrs. Porter's eyes were on the paper in her lap--"do
they play--play poker?"

"Why what made you ask me that question?" Tom answered with some
embarrassment.

"Mrs. Bob Miller said her husband told her they did."

"Nobody but Mrs. Miller would believe all that Bob says."

"But you know it is wicked to gamble?"

"Of course it is, to gamble for any amount, but just a little game for
amusement, that's not bad."

"How much does any one win or lose?"

"Oh, just a few dollars."

"That would buy a dinner for several poor families that need it; but the
worst of it is the principle; it is gambling, no matter how little is
lost or won."

"But, dear, you brought home a ten-dollar plate from a card party the
other afternoon."

"That is different. One is euchre, the other is poker."

"I see there is a difference; but wouldn't the plate have bought a few
dinners?"

"Yes, but if I had not won it some one else would. And it was too late
to spend it for charity. I don't believe it cost ten dollars anyway."

"You said then it would."

"But I have looked it over since and do not believe it is genuine. I
should think any one would be _ashamed_ to give an imitation," she added
with something like a flash in her blue eyes.

"It was a shame," Tom admitted, "a ten-dollar strain for a two-dollar
plate."

But Mrs. Porter merely raised her eyebrows at this rather mean remark.

"The Tad-Wallington dance is to-night, isn't it? Do you want to go to
that?" Tom asked.

"No, I'm not going."

"If you do," Tom went on, "I will take you and