At home they were all in the dining room. Annie stood in the doorway,
taking the pins out of her straw hat.

"Well?" called uncle William from the head of the table.

"Far from it," replied the girl. Her cheeks burned, as she shook her
head, but there was a glint of laughter in her eyes. She smoothed out
her veil, pinned it to the hat and tossed them both in the hall, as
she sank into her chair.

"I'll have a lot to tell you after supper, but here are a few facts to
occupy you till then:

"_First_, there isn't going to be any fair!

"_Second_, I believe I shall accept the Masons' invitation, after all,
and spend next week in Pungville.

"_Third_, behold in me a woman who knows when she is _beaten_!

"_Last_, my afternoon's experiences have made me as hungry as a bear.
Uncle William, I am preparing to eat four of those big, baked potatoes
in front of you, and, Aunt Mary, please let Cassandra bring in a large
pitcher of cream!"

WALL STREET

By ROBERT STEWART

Sir Richard Steele, in describing the Spectator Club, remarks of the
Templer that "most of his thoughts are fit for conversation, as few of
them are derived from business." Nevertheless, almost any man should
be able to philosophize more or less pleasantly and instructively over
his calling, and if statesmen, soldiers, lawyers and medical gentlemen
write autobiographies and describe the various debates, campaigns,
litigations and horrible operations they have been engaged in, why
should not an old stockbroker chat about his business, and give a
little "inside information," perhaps, about that Street whose ways are
supposed to be so tortuous?

Go into the Waldorf any afternoon you please, and see which has the
more attentive audience, Mr. Justice Truax discussing cases, or Mr.
Jakey Field tipping his friends on sugar. Watch the women at a tea and
see how their eyes brighten when young Bull, of the Stock Exchange,
comes in. Bull has a surer road to smiles and favor than all the
flowers and compliments in New York--he has a straight tip from John
Gates.

Business not fit for conversation! Ask Mr. Morgan if anybody fidgets
when _he_ talks? Has any clergyman as eager a congregation as the
audience Mr. Clews preaches to from the platform in front of his
quotation board every morning at eleven o'clock?

"Come, ye disconsolate," then, and if I can't tell you how to make
money, I venture to assert I can interest you in the place where you
lost it