eld dazzled Grace. She
recalled, in a flash, Geraldine Farrar.

She bowed to the sandwich, then to right and left, kissed her hand to
the crowd of voters and not-yet voters, and ran blushing into the house.

The storm of applause broke loose. The very house rocked drunkenly as
the sound-waves dashed themselves against the facade.

The strenuous, nerve-racking life of New York compelled the crowd to
linger for an hour. It was not until they began to break off bits of the
bronze railing and chip souvenirs from the portico columns that the
Goodchilds' butler sent a hurry call for the police.

The lieutenant's official version was cold and formal.

XXI

The Public Menu Commission had been having pitched battles. The Public
Sentiment Corps had been bombarding the newspapers with letters asking
for the official menu, but the commission refused to be hurried by
popular clamor, and said so to the reporters. Their own sessions were
held behind locked doors. Omelette soufflee au curacoa was definitely
stricken off Signor Piccolini's tentative menu, on the theory that the
filling was not permanent.

"Air is cheap," protested Piccolini, "and we have to consider the
expense."

"But we want something that will stay by the hungry more than fifteen
minutes."

"Then," said Piccolini, scathingly, "give them sliced rubber boots."

"If _you_ prepared the sauce, dear master," interjected H. R., who
happened to be present, "I'd rather eat it than any other artist's filet
Chateaubriand aux--"

Piccolini bowed to him profoundly. Then he shrugged his shoulders at the
others.

"Nevertheless," he said, with conviction, "Omelette soufflee--"

"What can you expect from the other members?" whispered H. R. to him.
"If we prolong the debate there won't be any hungry men alive to eat our
dinner. Yield, dear master, for the sake of humanity." Then he said
aloud, "Let's try beans."

The Commission therefore reported progress and adjourned for the day.

The newspapers, spurred thereto by the avalanche of letters and favorite
recipes from charitable ladies in Brooklyn, who gave their names,
addresses, and terms per week, devoted much space to the ideal
hunger-appeaser.

For the first time in history New York began to take an intelligent
interest in menus. Everybody talked about eating as if Hungarian
orchestras and Brazilian dances did not exist.

Presently the newspapers announced on unimpeachable authority that
serious diss