cally. "Do you think Terry would give
me a job, Rosie?"

Hardly. Though he did employ Rosie, Terence was scarcely in position to
employ every needy female that might apply to him. Rosie spoke kindly
but firmly:

"No, Janet, I don't believe Terry can take on any more girls. When I get
my skates, though, I tell you what I'll do: I'll let you 'sub' for me
sometimes. Yes. On the afternoons I go to skate on Boulevard Place, I'll
let you deliver my papers. I'll pay you three cents a day. Three cents
ain't much but, if you save 'em real hard, they count up--really they
do. If you 'sub' for me eight different times then you'll have
twenty-four cents. I told you, didn't I, that twenty-five cents is
what's coming in to me now every week regular?"

Yes, Rosie had already specified the amount many times but Janet, being
a devoted friend, exclaimed with unabated enthusiasm: "You don't say so,
Rosie! Well, I think that's just grand!"

Janet was right. It is fine to have an income that permits one to enjoy
the good things of life. Without a touch of envy Rosie could now view
the rich Jews and Protestants as they skimmed the smooth surface of
Boulevard Place. She, too, would soon be rolling along as well skated as
the best of them. The time was not far distant when, hearing the soft
whirr of the ball-bearings, they would look at her with a new respect
and no longer call out "Mucker!" the moment her back was turned.

This was the happy side of saving. There was, however, another side, and
to ignore it would be to ignore the effect upon character which any
effort as conscious as saving must produce. In simple innocence Rosie
had started out supposing that all that was necessary toward saving was
to have something savable. She soon discovered her mistake. The prime
essential in saving was not, after all, the possession of a tidy little
sum coming in at regular intervals, so much as the ability to keep that
sum intact. That is to say, for the sake of this one Big Thing, that
looms up faint but powerfully attractive on the distant horizon, you
must do without all the Little Things that make daily life so pleasant.

Alas, once you begin saving, you may no longer heedlessly sip the joys
of the moment taking no thought for the morrow. Saving involves thought
for the morrow first of all! In the old days when she hadn't a penny,
Rosie had somehow managed to enjoy an occasional ice-cream cone, or a
moving picture show, or a cent's worth of