nish away during our absence at the sea-side, after the manner of the
Boojum of ditty. I have really no adequate reason to give why I
delayed to make this amiable confession. It was the consciousness,
however, that I had it to make which had prompted me to help my darling
out of her quandary when I perceived that she seemed afraid to beard
the lion in his den.

"It has been very evident to me, Josephine, for the last two days, that
you are keeping back something. If your mind is really set on altering
the tinting of the drawing-room ceiling, I will consent to have it done
while we are out of town."

"It isn't that at all, Fred. I agree with you that we can't afford it
this year."

"Is it the extra tub in the laundry, then?"

"Of course it would be very nice if we could have an extra tub. But it
isn't that."

"Then there is something?"

"Yes," she murmured. "Oh, Fred, I do hope, now that the doctor has
ordered you to take more exercise, you will get one of those pretty,
striped, tennis suits."

"Yes, do, father dear," exclaimed my eldest daughter, who happened to
enter the room at the moment and overheard her mother's speech. "You
would look perfectly lovely in one."

"It would be a satisfaction for once to see you wear something a little
joyous," continued my wife, emboldened by the enthusiasm of her
offspring.

"You seem to forget, dear, that I am a plain man," I answered, though
to tell the truth I was asking myself whether I was not a trifle weary
of posing in that sublime capacity. Now that I thought of it, what was
the especial virtue of being a plain citizen?

When I came to reflect on the matter further, I realized that my
programme for the past fifteen years has been to put on a plain
pepper-and-salt suit of modest demeanor in the morning, eat two
plain-boiled eggs for breakfast, walk down town in a plain black
overcoat to my office in a plain-looking building, where I pursue my
calling until it is time to go home and doff my pepper-and-salt of
modest demeanor for a plain suit of sables, the funereal dress-clothes
of commerce and convention. Even this coal-black tribute to ceremony
has discredited me with some, who argue that I am not a plain man
because I do not prefer to dine in the same old pepper-and-salt.
Verily the only bits of warm color in my wardrobe have been a
robin's-egg-blue neck-tie, which I have never dared to wear except once
at a wedding, and a pair of pajamas reserved for