is was his High School Oration!

Then suddenly he remembered that for several Years of his Life his
consuming Ambition had been--to go to Congress!

With a demoniacal Shriek he threw himself at full length on a Leather
Couch and began to Laugh.

He rolled off the Sofa and tossed about on a $1,200 Rug in a Paroxysm of
Merriment.

His Man came running into the Library and saw the Master in Convulsions.
The poor Trust Magnate was purple in the Face.

They sent for a Great Specialist, who said that his Dear Friend had
ruptured one of the smaller Arteries, and also narrowly escaped Death by
Apoplexy.

[Illustration: THE MAGNATE]

He advised Rest and Quiet and the avoidance of any Great Shock.

So they took the High School Oration and put it on the Ice, and the
Magnate slowly recovered and returned to his nine-course Dinners.

MORAL: _Of all Sad Words of Tongue or Pen, the Saddest are these, "It
Might Have Been."_

_THE_ FABLE _OF_ WHAT HAPPENED _THE_ NIGHT THE MEN CAME _TO THE_ WOMEN'S
CLUB

In a Progressive Little City claiming about twice the Population that
the Census Enumerators could uncover, there was a Literary Club. It was
one of these Clubs guaranteed to fix you out with Culture while you
wait. Two or three Matrons, who were too Heavy for Light Amusements, but
not old enough to remain at Home and Knit, organized the Club. Nearly
every Woman in town rushed to get in, for fear somebody would say she
hadn't been Asked.

The Club used to Round Up once a week at the Homes of Members. There
would be a Paper, followed by a Discussion, after which somebody would
Pour.

The Organization seemed to be a Winner. One Thing the Lady Clubbers were
Dead Set On. They were going to have Harmony with an Upper Case H. They
were out to cut a seven-foot Swath through English Literature from
Beowulf to Bangs, inclusive, and no petty Jealousies or Bickerings would
stand in the Way.

So while they were at the Club they would pull Kittenish Smiles at each
other, and Applaud so as not to split the Gloves. Some times they would
Kiss, too, but they always kept their Fingers crossed.

Of course, when they got off in Twos and Threes they would pull the
little Meat-Axes out of the Reticules and hack a few Monograms, but that
was to have been expected.

[Illustration: WYCLIF]

Everything considered, the Club was a Tremendous Go. At each Session the
Lady President would announce the Subject for the next Meeting. For
i