it's warm.
Then they all chips in for the new Tenth-ave. flat. Maggie brings her
man and the two kids, the lady Kate sends around her trunks with the
furniture, and Nora promises to give up half of her twenty to keep
things going.

And then the Bradys, who lives opposite, has to spring their blow out.
They'd been married forty years too; but just because one of their boys
was in the Fire Department, and 'Lizzie Brady was workin' in a
Sixth-ave. hair dressin' parlour, they'd no call to flash such a
bluff,--frosted cake from the baker, with the date done in pink candy,
candles burnin' on the mantelpiece, a whole case of St. Louis on the
front fire escape, and the district boss drivin' around in one of
Connely's funeral hacks. Who was the Bradys, that they should have
weddin' celebrations when the Dillons had none?

Kate, the lady sales person, handed out that conundrum. She supplies
the answer too. She allows that what a Brady can make a try at, a
Dillon can do like it ought to be done. So they've no sooner had the
gas and water turned on at the new flat than she draws up plans for a
weddin' anniversary that'll make the Brady performance look like a pan
of beans beside a standing rib roast.

She knows what's what, the lady Kate does. She's been to the real
things, and they calls 'em "at homes" in Harlem. The Dillons will be
at home Sunday the nineteenth, from half after four until eight, and
the Bradys can wag their tongues off, for all she cares. It'll be in
honour of the fortieth wedding anniversary of Mr. and Mrs. Lawrence
Dillon, and all the family connections, and all friends of the same, is
to have a bid.

"Well, that's the limit!" says I. "Did you tell the girl they'd better
be layin' in groceries, instead of givin' an imitation tea?"

"Certainly not!" says Sadie. "Why shouldn't they enjoy themselves in
their own way?"

"Eh?" says I. "Oh, I take it all back. But what was the eye swabbin'
for, then?"

By degrees I gets the enacting clause. The arrangements for the party
was goin' on lovely,--Larry was havin' the buttons sewed onto the long
tailed coat he was married in, the scene shifter had got the loan of
some stage props to decorate the front room, there was to be ice cream
and fancy cakes and ladies' punch. Father Kelley had promised to drop
in, and all was runnin' smooth,--when Mother Dillon breaks loose.

And what do you guess is the matter with her? She wants her 'Loyshy.
If there w