and you speak like a princess."

"Don't be foolish," Hertha said, and then laughed--an odd, short laugh
in which Kathleen joined, though as it happened she did not understand
the joke. "Let's have the stew, only don't put quite so much onion in
it, and we'll get the ice cream on the way home."

The stew was delicious and Hertha enjoyed it, while Kathleen consoled
herself for the loss of the extra onion by a plentiful use of
condiments. "I've just a good plain appetite," she explained. Then they
went out into the noisy street to the theater where they sat in the
orchestra and Hertha felt like a queen. In the South she had been only a
few times to some cheap playhouse where she had been repelled by the
vulgarity of the people and the performance; but here in New York the
comfortable theater, darkened now, the music, the quiet audience, filled
her with happy anticipation. She squeezed Kathleen's hand as the picture
of a lovely young girl in gingham dress and pink sunbonnet flashed upon
the screen, and the story began.

It was one of the fifty-seven varieties of moving pictures, all of
which, Kathleen knew, were canned in the same syrup, but which to Hertha
were freshly sweet. A beautiful girl, a pink sunbonnet, a young lover,
blossoming apple trees. A coal mine discovered under the apple boughs. A
cruel father and separation. The girl in a gilded palace registering
despair. The lover seeking fame and gold. A titled villain mocking the
girl's pure love. The villain's machination, the lover tied to the
railroad track, the train dashing to within two inches of its victim.
The escape, a night in the woods, the friendly beasts. The disclosure.
"I love you still." The villain's contrition. His death. The coal mine
exhausted. Soft music, two lovers and one kiss. Blossoming apple trees
and the pink sunbonnet again. Far in the distance the sound of wedding
bells. Then sudden darkness, and The Best Flavored Chewing Gum thrown
upon the screen.

Hertha's heart beat fast during the whole of the story and she felt wave
after wave of pleasurable excitement. It was so sad and yet so
beautiful. The only thing to temper her enjoyment was Kathleen, who
would laugh in the wrong places. When the hero and heroine were in great
danger, Kathleen showed no apprehension. She chuckled at the approaching
train, and gave little grunts of amusement when the villain threatened
the girl. The only thing she seemed to care for was the bear who gave
the