letter heading
from a Genoa hotel was given to Mrs. O'Dowd and furnished her with
conversation for a week. In outbursts of great generosity stamps or
postcards were donated to especially favored individuals.

Hence when on this particular morning the postman pressed Mrs.
McGregor's bell and she hastened down four flights to open her mail-box
a head protruded from almost every door as she made her way back
upstairs and there was ample opportunity for her to observe to
interested spectators, "I seem to have a letter from England. Judging
from the postmark, my brother must be in Liverpool."

In this case the admiration with which the name was repeated might not
have found so ringing an echo in Mrs. McGregor's voice. She had been to
Liverpool. For all that, however, she maintained a dignified front and
bore the letter upstairs, sinking with delight into the first chair
that blocked her path when she arrived and calling to her children:

"I've a letter from your Uncle Frederick, Timmie. Think of that! It
comes all the way from Liverpool with King George neat as a pin smiling
out of the corner of it. Yes, you may take the envelope, Carl, but
don't let the baby be fingering and tearing it. Show Martin the King's
picture. He's old enough now to learn how he looks. Mercy on us! What a
ream your Uncle Frederick has written. One would think it was a book! I
never knew him to write such a long letter in all my life. I hope he
isn't sick. Don't hang over my shoulder, Mary; it makes me nervous. And
don't let Nell come climbing up into my lap while I'm reading. Go to
Mary, like a good girl, darling; mother's reading a letter that came
all the way from England."

Thus did Mrs. McGregor preface the perusal of the document she held in
her hand. But when she had spread out the voluminous sheets and was
preparing to read them she was again interrupted:

"Now, Timmie, don't you and Carl start quarreling the first thing about
the stamp. You ought to be ashamed of yourselves. Who had the last one?
Carl? Then this one goes to you and there must be no more bickering
about it. If there is I shall keep it myself. One would think you boys
were a pair of Kilkenny cats the way you squabble with each other! Now
are you going to be quiet and listen to what Uncle Frederick has to say
or are you not? Then don't let me hear another yip out of either of
you."

Instantly the room was so still you could have heard a pin drop and to
an accompaniment o