hat Story," said he--"the One about the German
and the Dog."

Bernice gave one Shriek and then dashed from the Room, making
hysterical Outcries along the Corridor.

Father told Kenneth to check all the Trunks for Home and then catch an
early Train.

Bernice was squirming about on the Hotel Sofa when Father entered the
Room.

She threw herself into his Arms and passionately demanded, "Why, oh,
why are you trying to force me into marrying that Creature?"

MORAL: Don't get acquainted too soon.

THE NEW FABLE OF THE UPLIFTER AND HIS DANDY LITTLE OPUS

Once there was a Litry Guy who would don his Undertaker's Regalia and
the White Satin Puff Tie and go out of an Afternoon to read a Paper to
the Wimmen.

At every Tea Battle and Cookie Carnival he was hailed as the Big Hero.
A good many pulsating Dulcineas who didn't know what "Iconoclast"
meant, regarded him as an awful Iconoclast.

And cynical? Mercy!

When he stood up in a Front Room and Unfolded his MS., and swallowed
the Peppermint Wafer and began to Bleat, no one in the World of Letters
was safe.

He would wallop Dickens and jounce Kipling and even take a side-swipe
at Luella Prentiss Budd, who was the Poetess Laureate for the Ward in
which he lived.

Ever since his Stuff had been shot back by a Boston Editor with a
Complimentary Note, he had billed himself as an Author and had been
pointed out as such at more than one Chautauqua.

Consequently his Views on Recent Fiction carried much weight with the
Carries.

He loved to pile the Fagots around a Best Seller and burn it to a
Cinder, while the Girls past 30 years of Age sat in front of him and
Shuddered.

As for the Drama, he could spread a New York Success on the marble-top
Table and dissect it until nothing was left but the Motif, and then he
would heave that into the Waste Basket, thereby leaving the Stage in
America flat on its back.

And if you mentioned Georgie Cohan to him, the Foam would begin to
fleck his Lips and he would go plumb Locoed.

After he had been sitting on the Fence for many years, booing those who
tried to saw Wood, his Satellites began coaxing him to write something
that would show up Charley Klein and Gus Thomas and all the other
Four-Flushers who were raking in Royalties under False Pretences.

They knew he was a Genius, because nothing pleased him.

He decided to start with something easy and dash off an Operetta.
Having sat through some of the Current Offerings, h