time Rosie was skipping and hopping in excitement.

"Sure that's what I mean."

"And then, Jarge, when you had him down, what did you do?"

"What did I do? Why, then I danced on him, of course."

George jumped up from his chair and, indicating a prostrate form on the
kitchen floor, proceeded to execute a series of wild jig steps over
limbs and chest.

Rosie clapped her hands. "Good, good, good, Jarge! And then what did you
do?"

"What did I do? Why, then I snatches off the stiff's hat and throws it
out the window. As luck went, it landed in a fine big mud-puddle. Then I
pulls the bell and says to him, 'Now, you big bully, if you've had
enough, get off this car and go home and tell your wife she wants you.'"

"And, Jarge, did he get off?"

"Did he? I wonder! He couldn't get off quick enough!"

George glanced timidly toward Ellen in hopes, apparently, that his
prowess would meet the same favour from her as from the others.

Ellen caught his look and instantly tightened her lips in disgust. "I
think it's perfectly disgraceful to get in fights!"

Under the scorn of her words George withered into silence. Terence
rallied instantly to his defence. He turned on his older sister angrily.
"Aw, go dry up, you old school-teacher!"

"I'm not an old school-teacher!" Ellen cried. "And you just stop calling
me names! Ma, Terence is calling me an old school-teacher and you don't
say a thing!"

Mrs. O'Brien looked at her son reprovingly. "Why, Terry lad, I'm
surprised at you callin' your poor sister Ellen a thing like that! You
know as well as I that she's not an old school-teacher."

"Well, anyway," Terence growled, "she talks like one."

Rosie's wild spirits, meantime, had vanished. She sighed heavily. "Say,
Jarge, wisht I was a boy."

George looked at her kindly. "What makes you say that, Rosie?"

"Oh, nuthin'. Only I know some stiffs I'd like to try a chin-chopper
on."

George eyed her a little uneasily. "Aw, now, Rosie, you oughtn't to
talk that way. You're a girl and 'tain't ladylike for girls to fight."

"I know, Jarge. That's why I say I wisht I was a boy."

George grew thoughtful. "Of course, though, Rosie, I wouldn't have
blamed the little lady in the car if she had poked her hatpin into that
fellow. It's all right for a lady to do anything in self-defence."

In Rosie's face a sudden interest gathered. "Ain't it unladylike, Jarge,
if it's in self-defence?"

George answered emphatically: "Of course n