pped," wailed Uncle Gilbert as they headed for the river.

"Let me out, let me out," pleaded Aunt Miranda, and the machine seemed
to hear her, for it certainly obliged the lady.

I found out afterwards that in order to make good with Aunt Miranda the
machine jumped up in the air and turned a double handspring, during the
course of which friend Uncle and his wife fell out and landed in the
most generous inclined mud puddle in that part of the state.

Then the Buzz Buggy turned around and barked at them, and with an
excited wag of its tail scooted for home and left them flat.

Late that evening Uncle Gilbert explained that there would have been no
trouble at all if he had removed a defective spark plug.

But I think if Uncle Gilbert would go to Dr. Leiser and have his
parsimony removed he'd have more fun as he breezes through life.

Peaches thinks just as I do, but she won't say it out loud--she's a fox,
that Kid.

CHAPTER III

YOU SHOULD WORRY ABOUT DIETING

I was complaining to some of my friends in the Club the other evening
because a germ General Villa had begun to attack the outposts of my
digestive tract when a nut in the party began to slip me a line of talk
about a vegetable diet.

I didn't fall for it until he proved to me that Kid Methuselah had
prolonged an otherwise uneventful life and was enabled to make funny
faces at the undertakers until he reached the age of 914 simply because
he ate nothing but dandelion salad, mashed potatoes and stewed prunes.

Then I went home and told friend wife about it. She approved eagerly
because she felt that it might solve the servant problem.

Since we started housekeeping about eight months ago we've averaged two
cooks a week. Tuesdays and Fridays are our days for changing chefs. The
old cook leaves Monday evening and the new cook arrives Tuesday morning.
Then the new cook leaves on Thursday evening and the newest cook arrives
on Friday, and so on, world without end.

Friend wife decided she could herself dip a few parsnips in boiling
water without the aid of a European kitchen mechanician.

Vegetarians! What a great idea!

Now she could get out into the sunlight once in a while, instead of
standing forever at the hall door as a perpetual reception committee to
a frowsy-headed Slavonian exile demanding $35 per and nix on the
washing.

But it was Friday and our latest cook was at that moment annoying the
gas range in the kitchen, so why not experime