Ain't it remarkable the way the war has changed the way we look at a whole lot of things? Take wrist-watches for one. Before the military idea was going so strong on its present booking but a little while, wrist-watches had grabbed off a masculine standing for themselves, and six months before no real man would of been willingly found dead in one!

Then take newspapers! Oncet we used to look at them for news, and now we just look at them. It's kind of a nervous habit, I guess. And take simple little things like coal and sugar. Why once we paid no attention to them and now we look at them real respectful—when we see them. Which leads me on to say that the war has brought us to look at a great many things we never even seen before, not if they was right under our noses. That's how I come to see that letter from the W.S.S. Committee—and would to Heaven I had not, as the poet says. For although—believe you me—most of the mail order goods a person buys is pretty apt to be as rep. because why would a customer write again which had been stung once, and thrift stamps is no exception, it certainly will be a long time before I fall so easy for anything the postman slips me. Next time I'll recognize that his whistle is a note of warning to more than them which has unpaid bills, which I have not and so never listened for him.

Well, anyways, the time this little trouble maker reached my side, I had slipped into a simple little lounging suit of pink georgette pajamas, and was lying on the day-bed in a regular wallow of misery on account of wondering if Jim was dead on the gory fields of France, or was it only the censor—do you get me? I was laying there rubbing a little cold cream onto my nose and thinking how would it feel to be always able to do so without losing my husband's love, which, of course, would mean he had died at the front, when in comes Ma with a couple of letters. I give one shriek and sprung to my feet, like a regular small-time drama, and grabbed them off her, cold cream and all. And then slunk back upon the day-bed and despair when I seen they weren't from Jim. Ma stood there with her hands on her hips until she seen I wasn't going to break any bad news to her, when she left me in peace to read them. That is she meant to, but believe you me, it was far from it as Ma went into our all-paid-for gold furnished parlour and commenced playing on the pianola which Jim had give me for a souvenir before he sailed, and Ma, being sort of heavy and strong, after twenty-five years with a circus, she has a fierce touch.

Well, anyways, after she had got "Soft and Low" going strong with the loud pedal and no expression, I opened the first envelope. It was my copy of my new contract with Goldringer all signed and everything and calling for only twenty minutes of my first class A-1 parlour dancing act in his new musical show at the Springtime Garden entitled "Go To It" and which let all persons know that the party of the first part hereinafter called the manager was willing and able to pay Miss Marie La Tour, party of the second ditto, one thousand dollars a week. Which certainly was some party to look foreward to and scarcely any work to speak of, a refined act like mine not calling for over three handsprings and some new steps, which is second nature to me and I generally make up a few every night for my own amusement same as some of those fellows which play the piano by hand—do you get me?

Well, anyways, when I had looked the contract over good and seen it really was, as I had before realized in the office, more than satisfactory, I salted it away in my toy safe which was nicely built into the mantel-piece for the greater convenience of burglars, and then I remembered the other envelope. All unsuspecting as a table d'hote guest, I opened the envelope, and then almost dropped dead.

It was from President Wilson!

Believe you me, I leaned up against the art-gray wall paper and prepared to faint after I had read the news. But instead of commencing, "I regret to inform you of the death in battle," or something like that, it started:

"The White House,
"Washington, D. C.

"I earnestly appeal to every man, woman and child to pledge themselves to save constantly and to buy as regularly as possible the securities of the Government; and to do this as far as possible through membership in War Savings Societies.

"The man who buys War Savings Stamps transfers his purchasing power to the United States Government.

"May there be none unenlisted in the great volunteer army of production and saving here at home.

"Woodrow Wilson."

Woodrow Wilson! Signed—and addressed to me! Of course it didn't exactly begin "Dear Miss La Tour" or anything like that, and he had signed it with a rubber stamp or something which I did not hold against him in the least, me realizing at once what a busy man he must be. But coming as it done instead of a death-notice which I had by this time fully expected after no letter for over a month, it got to me very strong. It made me feel all of a sudden that I was a pretty punk patriot lounging around in pink georgette pajamas which—believe you me—is no costume for war-work and felt like going right off and borrowing one of the gingham house-dresses which I have never been able to break Ma of, only, of course, it would of been too big and anyways what would I of done after I had it pinned around me? Which could be said of a whole lot of folks which were rushing into uniforms of their own inventing.

Well, anyways, after the first shock was over, I seen there was an enclosure with the President's letter. This was from some committee which had a big W.S.S. lable printed at the top and a piece out of the social register printed underneath, and was dated N. Y. It begun more personal.

"Dear Miss La Tour," it said. "As a woman so prominent in the theatrical world, we feel sure that you would be glad to take an active interest in the great Thrift movement which is now before the country. Will you not form a theatrical women's committee that will pledge the sale of twenty-five thousand dollars' worth of stamps on the first of the month? The first of every month will be observed as Thrift Stamp Day, and we will be glad to furnish you with all literature, stamps, etc., if you will notify headquarters of your willingness to do this work."

The letter was signed by some guy which it was impossible to read his name because he hadn't used no rubber stamp but did it by hand and had other things on his mind. But did I care? I did not! Believe you me, I had already decided to do like he asked, and why would I need to know his name when I wasn't going to write to him anyways, but to Mr. Wilson? Dancing as long as I have which is about fifteen years or since I could walk, pretty near, and not only professionally but drawing my own contracts from the time most sweet young things is thinking over their graduation dresses, I have learned one thing, if no other. Always do business with the boss. Refuse to talk to all office boys, get friendly with the lady stenographer, if there is one, but do all business with the one at the head—and no other! This motto has saved me no end of time which has been spent in healthy exercise under my own roof and Ma's eagle eye, which otherwise might have wore out the seats of outside-office chairs.

And so I concluded that I'd sit right down that minute and let Mr. Wilson know I was on the job. I knew I had some writing paper someplace and after I had took a lot of powder and chamois and old asperin tablets out of the desk I dug it up:—a box of handsome velour-finish tinted slightly pink, with envelopes to match. And I got hold of a pen and some ink which Musette, my maid, had overlooked, she being a great writer to her young man which is French and Gawd knows how fluent she writes him in it, only of course being born over there certainly makes a difference.

Well, anyways, I cleaned off the desk and rubbed the cream off my nose and hands and set down to write that letter. And—believe you me—it was some job. I guess I must of commenced a dozen times and tore them up with formal openings—do you get me? And then I realized that the box of pink tinted was getting sort of low and I had better waste not want not, and so determined to just be natural in what I wrote but not take up his time with too long a letter. So at last I threw in the clutch, gave myself a little gas, and we was off, to this effect.

"My dear Mr. Wilson:—

"Many thanks for yours of the 25th inst. Will at once get busy at helping to make the first of the month savings day instead of unpaid-bill day.

"Cordially,
"Marie La Tour."

This seemed refined and to the point, and although I was awful tempted to put a P.S. asking did they know anything about Jim, I left off on account of me not believing in asking personal favors of the Government just now, as the war office was probably medium busy and the Censor might answer first, at that. So I just sealed it up as it was, and about then Ma left off playing on my souvenir and came in with a pink satin boudoir cap down tight over her head. Ma just can't seem to get over the idea that boudoir caps at five dollars and up per each is a sort of de lux housework garment.

"I'm just going in the kitchen and beat up a few cakes for lunch," said Ma, and withdrew, leaving me to lick on three cents and shoot the letter fatefully and finally down the drop near the gilt-bird-cage elevator of our home-like little flat. I felt awfully relieved and chesty somehow when it was done and with her good news ringing in my ears. For Ma is certainly some cook, and she has it all over our chef, who—believe you me—knows she would never be missed if she went although Ma simply can't learn to stay out of the kitchen. And while she was busy with the butter and eggs and sugar and wheat flour, I was deciding to call a committee, because I knew that was the way you generally start raising twenty-five thousand dollars worth of anything, except a personal note.

Committee meetings is comparative strangers to me except the White Kittens Annual Ball, and a few benefit performances which last is usually for the benefit of those which are to be in it, they leaving aside all consideration of the benefit of the audience much less of the charity it is supposed to be for, and the main idea being how long each actor can hold the spotlight. You may have noticed how these benefit performances runs on for hours.

Well, anyways, I having been to several such as of course the best known parlour dancing act in America and the world, like mine undoubtedly is, is never overlooked. And I knew we had to get a place with a big table and chairs set around it and then the committee was started. So the White Kittens always having met in the Grand Ball Room of the Palatial Hotel, I called up the place and hired the room for the next morning at twelve-thirty, me being determined that my Theatrical Ladies Committee should get there directly after breakfast. The cost of the room was one hundred dollars, and I didn't know was the Government to pay it or us, but I was, of course, willing to do it myself if necessary. Anyways it was a committee-room, I knew that by reason of my having sat in it as such at least twice each year since the place was built—way back in '13. Then all I had to do was get my committee.

I had just about dived for the telephone book to see who would I call up, when Ma come in, taking off the pink satin cap and wiping her face.

"I made a omlette," said Ma. "Come catch it before it falls!"

And so I called it the noon-whistle though some might of called it a day, and we went in and while we ate only a simple little lunch of the omlette (which we got at first base) and liver and bacon and cold roast beef and a few stewed prunes with the fresh cake, I told Ma about what had happened, and how I had already got after the job.

"Well, Mary Gilligan, you done the right thing!" said Ma. "And what kind of costume are you going to wear?"

"The notices don't say anything about a uniform," I explained to her. "And I'm pretty sure you don't need any. This is the sort of thing our leading society swells are taking up so heavy," I says, "and to do it is not only patriotic but feminine to the core," I says.

"Will you have to stand on the street-corners and worry the life out of folks?" Ma wanted to know.

"Not much!" I says. "That stuff is for the hoi-poli and idle rich and kids and unemployed. That's where some of the new democracy comes in. Us with brains is to do the office work. Them with good hearts only can do theirselves and the country more service in the stores and street-cars selling something that don't belong to them," I says, "and—believe you me—I bet any American gets a funny sensation doing that little thing."

Ma looked real impressed for a minute, showing she hadn't any idea what I was talking about. Then she come back to her main idea with which she had started which you can bet she always does until she gets through with it her own self.

"Well, I think you ought to have something for a uniform," she says. "Say a cap and maybe a trench coat!"

"I wouldn't wear no trench coat around the Forty-Second Street and Broadway trenches," I says. "I wouldn't actually have the nerve to insult the army like that!"

And Ma seen what I meant and said no more which it certainly is remarkable how good we get on for Mother and daughter.

So she only urged me to have another cream-cake, which I took and then I made for the phone and started calling up some ladies to form the committee out of. After thinking the matter over very careful I finally decided on six of the most prominent in my line which was, of course, the Dahlia sisters which had been often on the same bill with me and, of course, they ain't really related—no such team work as theirs was ever pulled by members of the same family, unless maybe when knocking some absent member—do you get me? Well, anyways, beside them I got Madame Clementina Broun, the well known Lady Baritone, she being a rather substantial party which would give weight to us in cabaret circles. Of course Pattie The Dancer had to be asked, she being so prominent especially as to her tights and strong pull with Goldringer but I only done it out of diplomacy, which any one knows committees has to have a lot of. And she is less diplomatic than me as well, for instead of just accepting for her own self she accepts also for some friends which I had not invited, and she did not name. Pattie is alias Mrs. Fred Hutchins—him who gets up those reviews—you know—which is the only reason she is starred in them for Gawd only knows a child which had been started anywheres near right could of done her steps at the age of seven, they being mere hard-sole clog with no arm movements but having a great many imitators among college boys and such, that scare-crow stuff being as showy as it is easy.

Well, anyways, when I had got this far I had one vacancy on my hands and as our Allies was not sufficiently represented so far, decided on Mlle. DuChamps which of course she was really born in Paris, Indiana, but as a toe-dancer is unequalled in any language and has a lovely broken accent. So there we had France. Madame Clementia was married to a Italian and he being dead or something I never asked what I felt she was a safe Ally because she couldn't of revolted, not if a schrapnel was to have went off under her. Pattie was of course Irish and the Dahlias' Jewish, and Gawd knows what the other girl was and I didn't care.

II

When they had all promised to get theirselves waked up on time and be over to the Palatial, I kind of weakened on Ma's suggestion about clothes. Of course I wasn't going to fall for that uniform stuff, but when me and Musette looked over my clothes I simply didn't have a thing to wear. Every one of my dresses was too morning or evening or something and above all things I do believe in dressing a part, and certainly I had nothing which looked like a chairmaness. So after getting into a simple little sports costume of violet satin and my summer furs, and taking a peep into the mail box to see had anything got by the censor yet which of course it hadn't, I started out to buy me something which would be quiet but tasty and snappy because nothing inspires respect in a ladies committee like a dress none of them has seen before.

Have you ever noticed how you can pass up something which has been right under your nose day after day and then all of a sudden you hitch on to something which belongs to it and then all you see is that thing—do you get me? Say yellow kid boots. You never even noticed a pair, but one day you buy them and next time you're out every second woman has them on. Or you go into mourning for somebody and all of a sudden you commence noticing how many other people is the same only of course there ain't over the average—it's only that you notice it because you are in it. Well, believe you me—that first afternoon I went out after receiving the President's letter, I was that way with this W.S.S. stuff. Of course I had bought my thousand dollars worth the first week they was out, as had also Ma and she and I together the same for Musette. But we had done it on the Liberty Loans the same, also Red Cross and thought we was through and all the signs and posters and what not had come to be invisible to me like a chewing-gum or a soap ad—do you get me?

But now I was in it and not only did I see every sign and see them good, but felt like I had one on my back and everybody must know about the letter and everything. I walked kind of springy, too, in spite of the furs, and then when I turned into the Avenue, me being on foot, a five mile walk per day having to be got away with by me or Ma would know the reason why, the trouble commenced. Believe you me, I must of refused to buy thrift stamps one hundred times in twenty blocks, and every time I said I had all I could, the look I got handed me would have withered a publicity man. There must be a hot lot of fancy liars among us, with no imagination, for why would W.S.S. still be on sale if everybody had bought that much? And when I wasn't refusing to buy stamps I was forking out quarters for everything from blind Belgian hares to Welch Rabbits for German prisoners. And it's a good thing I had a charge account to Maison Rosabelle's or I would never of got my dress. And the more I was pestered to buy them stamps the madder I got. I commenced to feel it was a regular hold up, and that the police ought to interfere. A person which is pestered to death will even sour on the Red Cross. I don't mean that they ain't humane, neither—only that they are human, and the most dangerous thing to do to a human is to bore it—any one in the theatrical professions learns that young and thoroughly. And when I realized that I was getting bored with this constant hold-up I got a fearful jolt and a cold chill.

Here I was undertaking to chair a committee to sell the things and Gawd knows my heart ought to of been in it with Jim over there and all, and it was, only getting bored with the war is kind of natural, it being so far off and nothing likely to do us personal bodily injury on the Avenue unless maybe the restaurants or a auto and that our own fault. And so soon as I realized what I was up against with the great Boredom Peril, I realized also what I had personally in writing promised Mr. Wilson, and took a brace. It was just like the early days on the Small-Time when the booking depends on the hand and the hand was the one which fed us—and not any too much at that with the carrying expenses—and the hand was getting weaker. Me and Ma sat up all one night doping out my double handspring with the heel-click. And it was a desperate effort and we thought it was a flivver but not at all. When I landed on my feet after the first try-out, I knew I was there to stay, and any intelligent public will realize that I remembered it now. And by this time I had reached the store I was headed for.

I will confess that from the moment I had decided to buy a new dress I had my mind all set on what it was to be—something sheer and light—printed chiffon, and a hat to go with it. But by the time I had reached Maison Rosabelle my hunch on my new job was beginning to go strong and one of the things that worried me was that dress. Also my lunch. Sometimes it happens that too much of a good thing is the only thing which will turn you against it—do you get me? And Ma's cream cakes had this effect. Maybe had I eat less of them I would not have had no indigestion and so not counted their cost as Lincoln, or somebody, says. And if I hadn't had the indigestion maybe I wouldn't of worried over the dress. Well, anyways, the first person I see inside the store was Maison herself, very elegant and slim, only with a little too much henna in her hair as usual.

"Well, Masie," I said when we had got into the privacy of the art-gray dressing room and lit a cigarette, while the girl went for some models. "Well, Masie, I want to know is business good?" Masie is her real name she having Frenchified it for business reasons, the same as myself.

"Oh, dearie!" says she. "Business is elegant! With so many officers in town, I can scarcely keep enough things in stock. The beaded georgettes go so fast, on account of being perishable. Ruby Roselle had three last week of me. One party and they're gone!"

While Masie and me has been friends ever since I can remember, her mother having been Lady Lion Tamer in the same circus with Ma and Pa's trapeze act, as she uttered them words, I commenced feeling a little coolness toward her. For once I get a idea in my head it's a religion to me, and the W.S.S. was getting to me.

"Dont you think maybe that's profiteering, Masie?" I ast.

Maison run a well manicured hand over her marcelle and smiled superior—she has always prided herself on being sort of high-brow and reads Sappy Stories regular.

"Why, dearie, how you talk!" she says. "Dont you know that a little gaiety keeps up the morale of the country?"

"I'm not so sure about some gaiety keeping up the moral of anything!" I says with meaning, not wishing to directly knock anybody but still wishing Masie to get me. "And personally myself, I think any time's a bad time to waste money on clothes which won't last!"

"My goodness, Sweetie!" Masie shrieked. "What's gonner become of us if ladies was to quit buying? Tell me that? How we gonner hire our help, and all, and how can they live if we dont hire 'em? Have a heart!" she says. "And what are you talking about—you coming in after a new dress yourself, and only last week had two chiffons which Gawd knows ain't chain-armour for wear!"

"I know!" I admitted, "but I'm going to can my order. Just tell the girl to bring gingham or something which will wash—if you got such a thing!"

"Well, Mary Gilligan, I guess you're going nutty!" says Masie, but she gives the order, and I choose one at $15—which could be dry-cleaned, and that was the nearest I could come to what I was after.

"You wont like it!" Masie warned me. "It's too cheap—better take a good silk!"

But I wouldn't—not on a bet. Even although what Masie said about cutting down too much on buying stuff sounded sensible, or would if only the question was how far can a person cut before they reach the quick? Of course I see her point, and she had as good a right to live as me. Yet something was wrong some place, I couldn't figure out where. So I just charged the dress and set out for home, and owning a cotton dress made me feel awful warlike and humble—do you get me?

But while I felt better about my dress, the cream-cakes was still with me, and, being now a sort of Government Official, they and that got me noticing the food signs, as well, and wishing I had eat only a little cereal for my lunch. That gave me a idea which on arriving home I handed to Ma.

"I have just bought me a wash-dress, or almost so, Ma!" I told her. "And honest to Gawd I do think we ought to eat to match it. Suppose we was to go on war-rations of our own free wills?"

"Well, we eat pretty plain and wholesome now!" says Ma. "Just like we always done!"

"But times is different!" I says, toying with the soda-mint bottle, and who knows but what they were being more needed abroad? "And cream-cakes is a non-essential. Especially to one which has to keep her figure down," I says. "So for lunch to-morrow let's have cereal only," I says.

Well I hate to take pleasure from any one and the sight of Ma's face when I said this would of brought tears to a glass eye. But I felt particularly strong-minded just then what with the indigestion and no letter from the censor yet and Gawd knows that is no joke as they are certainly more his than Jim's by the time they get to me! But after I had told Ma how all the caviar had ought to be sent over to the boys and how food would win the war and how Wilson expected every man—you know—well, she got all enthusiastic over making up a lot of cheap recipes and we had the butcher and grocer pared down to about ninety cents each per day. Ma could just see herself growing slim, and she kept remembering things she used to cook for Pa in the old days before she retired on the insurance money. And first thing you knew the time had come for me to go to the theatre. Just as I was starting for the door Ma mentioned Rosco, our publicity man.

"Are you going to call him or will I?" she wanted to know.

"About what?" I asked.

"Why about your committee-meeting to-morrow?" she says.

"Nothing doing!" I came back at her. "Would you invite a manager to see a practice-act? Its going to be amateur-night for me, to-morrow is, and no outsiders are urged to attend! And anyways, I'm not doing this for publicity which Gawd knows I dont need any, but for my Uncle Sam!"

"Well, thank goodness, you aint go no other relations you feel that way about," says Ma, "or we'd all be in the poorhouse shortly!"

III

Well, that night when I came home I cried myself to sleep with my head under the pillow so's Ma wouldn't hear what I called the censor, but slept good on account of the simple little war-supper of only lettuce and a cup of soup which Ma had ready for me, and in the morning was up with the lark as the poet says, only of course they was really sparrows, it being the city. Well, anyways, I felt good and husky and as early as eleven-thirty I was all fixed up in the new wash dress, which its a actual fact Musette had to sew it together four separate places that it come apart while putting it on me. The goods wasn't the quality I had thought, come to look at them closer, but anyways it was cheap and that was one good thing about it. Ma brought me in a shredded wheat-less biscuit and a cup of coffee, a sort of funny look on her face like she had taken her oath and would stick it out to the death. She didn't say anything, only set it down and I ate it, saying nothing either because it was what we had agreed we would get along on for breakfast. When I was through she give me a news item.

"The cook is leaving!" she says. "On account of the new rations."

"That's no loss!" I says gaily, because as a general thing Ma is only too glad when this happens.

"I ain't so sure!" says Ma. "I'm not as young as I was, and I cant do all the cooking!"

Well—believe you me—I sat up and took notice of that! Ma kicking at her favorite pastime. Something was wrong. But even then I didn't get what it was. So I just remarked we could eat our dinners at the Ritz that being good publicity anyways and always expected of me in full evening dress when I am dancing. So that much settled and there being no letter yet and me being sort of nervous about that meeting which was breaking ahead, I went and beguiled a hour at Jim's souvenir. I thought a whole lot of that pianola, he having given it to me just before he sailed, and as of course it was too heavy to wear over my aching heart which is generally supposed to be done with souvenirs of loved ones overseas, I put in a good deal of time sitting at it, and—believe you me—my touch is a whole lot better than Ma's which me being light on my feet by nature and business both, is not so surprising. Well, I got myself all worked up over Jim while playing "Somewhere A Voice Is Calling with Mandolin Arrangement" and a whole lot of expression and what with feeling a little low on account of the patriotic breakfast, I was just in the right frame of mind to throw myself heart and soul into the good work before me—do you get it? You do!

Well, I had no sooner left the shelter of our own flat, than that same hold-up game which I had noticed so particular the day before was started on me. The elevator-girls, which had taken the place of a standing yet sitting army of foreign princes which had used to clutter up our front hall and the only excuse they had for living was the nerve they give the landlord when he come to price the rents:—well, anyways, the girls which had taken their places since the draft blew in, was selling W.S.S. Of course I couldn't buy any for the same reasons as yesterday. So they sprung a working girls War Crippled Aid Fund and I contributed to that, because I believe in girls running elevators. Why wouldn't they, when thousands has run dumb-waiters so good for years? Well, anyways, I give them something and escaped to the street only to be lit on for stamps by the first small boy I met. And after only seven others had tried me, I got to the Palatial Hotel, and—believe you me—by that time worried pretty severely about how could a person sell twenty-five thousand dollars worth of the pesky things and not get slain by some impatient citizen who felt that I was the last camel and his back was broke, or whatever the poet says? Really, it was serious, and being the first of the Theatrical Ladies to arrive, the big ballroom with the table and seven empty chairs like a desert island in the middle of the floor, failed to cheer me any.

Well, there was a arm-chair at one end of the table and there being nobody around to either elect me or stop me, I grabbed off this chair and held to it with the grim expression of a suburbanite who knows her husband isn't coming but wont admit it, and a good thing I acted prompt as should be done in all war-measures, because pretty soon the other ladies commenced arriving. I guess they must of thought they could get a better part by coming early, they was so prompt, and by one o'clock they was actually all there except Pattie and her unknown friend, which was pretty good, the date having been twelve-thirty.

Well, we all shook hands and I arose from my seat but didn't move a inch away from it, having seen something of committee meetings where the wrong person had it. And then they all sat down and took in my dress and hat and I theirs, and we was very amiable and refined and I felt so glad I had picked such a good bunch and wished Pattie would hurry so's we could commence, when lo! as the poet says, my wish was granted, for in come Pattie and with her her friend and My Gawd, if it wasn't Ruby Roselle!

Well, far be it from me to say anything about any lady, only pro-Germans is pro-Germans by any other name, as Shakespeare says, provided you can find it out, and here she was, butting in on a gathering of would-be Dolly Madisons and Moll Pritchers and everything, and I wouldn't of invited her for the world if only Pattie had mentioned her name. But here she was, all dressed up like a plush horse and so friendly it got me worried right away. Any one which has seen Ruby in her red, white and blue tights will at once realize what I mean, though nothing but the tights was ever proved against her. What on earth she wanted with our committee was very suspicious because why would she ever of taken a expensive and difficult present like a baby alligator from a German which she once done, if not pro, her own self?

But time for starting something had sure come, if we was ever to get any lunch, so I got them all seated and commenced—a little weak in the knees which it was a good thing I was seated, but strong in the voice, so as to start the moral right—do you get me?

"Ladies of the Theatrical Ladies W.S.S. Committee," I began, being determined not to waste no time on formalities, which it has always seemed to me that on such occasions a lot of gas is used up in them which would have run the machine quite a ways if applied properly. We all knew we was the Theatrical Ladies W.S.S. Committee and I was the chairman, so why waste words making me it? "Ladies," I says, "I have a letter from President Wilson asking me to get to work, and so have formed a committee to sell twenty-five thousand dollars worth of War Savings Stamps on the first of the month. I sat right down and wrote him I would do it, and here we are. Of course this being the twenty-eighth of the month the notice is short. Probably he didn't expect us really to get to work until next month, but personally, myself, I think we should surprise him by getting the money by Saturday night, which Saturday night is the first. Now, you Committee Ladies is here to discuss how will we do it. I would be glad to hear ideas, suggestions and etc."

Well, nobody said anything for a few minutes only Ruby put a little powder on her nose and looked at it critical in her vanity case mirror, which well she might for Gawd knows she had powder enough on her already. Then Madame Broun, the Lady Baritone, cleared her throat.

"I would be glad to give a recital," she said, swelling up her neatly upholstered black satin bosom, "and turn over the money it brings in. I presume the Government would hire the theatre for me."

"Well," I says, "that is a real nice suggestion only not quite practical. You see it wouldn't be right to ask the Government to pay for the theater in case it was a wet Monday and only a few came in out of the rain. Any more ideas?"

The blond Dahlia sister spoke up then.

"Whatever you suggest goes with me, Marie," she says, which was terrible sweet of her, only it's a darn sight easier to give a proxy than a good suggestion, which I did not however mention, Blondie being a real fine Jewish American and a willing worker as I well knew.

"I thought of course it was a benefit we would give," put in Pattie in a voice which just plain dismissed every other possibility. "I have a new patter to 'Yankee Doodle' with a red, white and blue spot on me, at front center with the rest of the house dark. It ought to go big about the center of the programme."

After which modest little suggestion she sunk gracefully back into her seat and commenced shadow-tapping the tune with her feet under the committee table.

"Well, benefits is always possible," I said, "and of course we could have it with admission by W.S.S. only. But it's been done a lot and three days ain't so very much time in which to get it up in a way which would do your act justice," I says.

"Ah! cheries!" says Mlle. DuChamp. "Mes petites!" she says, whatever that was. "I have zee gran' idea—perfect! I will make zee speach on zee steps of zee Library of zee Public at Forty-Second Street and Feeth Avenoo. I will arise, I will stretch my han', I will call out 'Cityonnes! 'Urry up queek! Your countree call you—Formez vos battillions!' and while I make zee dramatic appeal zee ozzers can collect twenty-five t'ousand dollar from zee breathless crowd!"

She had got up on her box-toed shoes and was making the grandest gestures you ever see. Honest to Gawd I do believe that girl has herself kidded into believing that the Paris she was born in was France, not Ind. I kind of waved at her, and when she had flopped back into her place, completely overcome by her emotions, I suggested that maybe the Library wasn't as Public as it looked, being generally occupied of a fine afternoon by wounded soldiers making the same line of talk, and of course Mlle. DuChamps would be more chic and all that, but would she be let?

"Of course she wouldn't!" says Ruby, coming out of her vanity-case for a minute. "Of course not! My idea is that we all chip in say about seven thousand five hundred and let it go at that!"

Somehow this cheap-Jack way of getting out of doing any work by spending a little money, got my goat something fierce. Besides which it was Ruby's idea of patriotism and all against W.S.S. rules and everything, but for the minute I was so floored I couldn't speak. The dark Dahlia did it for me, though, and much more contained than I could of at the time.

"That's mighty generous, Miss Roselle," she says just as sweet, "only you see me and Blondie has each got our thousand dollars worth and one person can't get more," she says.

"Well, I'll take a thousand dollars worth then," said Ruby, and I could see very plain that the matter was finished in her mind, and what would you expect different after them patriotic tights of hers?

"I'll take a thousand also," put in Madame Broun. "To tell the right truth I haven't a one. What do you do with them—stick them on the backs of letters like Tuberculosis, or Merry Xmas?"

Well, we explained they was not a additional burden to the postman but more or less of a investment. And then the awful truth come out that Pattie hadn't none either and that Mlle. DuChamps had always thought they was to put on tobacco boxes and candy and everything you stored up in the house to eat, though Gawd only knows how she got that idea except of course it's the truth that most people is boobs, outside of their own line, more's the pity!

Well, anyways, we took in four thousand right then and there and so all that remained was twenty-one. Ruby undertook to sell another three among her personal friends, and the Dahlias said they thought they could raise as much more between theirselves. Then when Mlle. DuChamps and Madame Broun had concluded to take on three apiece there was eleven thousand dollars worth of friendless little stamps with nobody to love them but me. Well, with no better schemes than benefits and concerts and talks in sight, I see it was up to me to bite off the biggest slice of pie myself, so I said I'd take the remainder. Of course with my influence and name and all I would of had no trouble getting rid of them only by asking prominent men like Goldringer and Rosco and the Dancing Trust people beside a few more personal ones. And then when we had got this far I see some of the ladies commence looking at their wrist-watches for other reasons than to show they had them, and so hustled up the last of the business which was merely how would we print our forms for subscribers to fill out. Ruby suggested a gilt-edge card tinted violet with whatever lettering I chose, and while I didn't care for it I agreed, being hungry myself.

"I do think it is awful fine of you to take on that big amount," said Pattie. "But you always was generous, Marie, I will say that for you."

"Ladies!" I said. "No thanks where they dont belong. Because I am undertaking this sale for far other reasons than you suppose."

But since everybody by then plainly cared more for their lunch than my reasons we parted, agreeing to send the money to my place on Sunday morning.

IV

But I will here set down my unspoken reasons, which was that fine as it is to walk out to your rich friends and pluck a thousand worth of stamps per each off them and of course nobody but thinks the rich should have them, too, I had a strong hunch that the reason for selling stamps at five dollars or even two bits, was because every one could get in on a good thing that way. Somehow there seemed something too up-stage about going in only for the high spots, and after ordering the cards I hurried home full of determination to make a stab at selling to the common herd and with a terrible appetite and anxious as could be over the one o'clock mail.

Well, the last two was doomed to a immediate disappointment because the censor was sitting just as tight as ever and there was only cereal for lunch. Believe you me it give me sort of a jolt when I sat down to so little and Ma's face was not any too cheering. We commenced to eat in silence which being both perfect ladies was the only thing to do as it was also burned. But after a minute Ma lay down on the job. She pushed her dish over toward me in disgust.

"Try that on your piano, Mary Gilligan!" she says.

"Well, Ma, you know what war is," I says. "And we'll get a good meal at the Ritz to-night to make up!"

Well, anyways, sustained more by patriotism than by what I had eat, I set out to put over a scheme I had all hatched out in my head for using places which was already kind of organized, as my selling agents—do you get me? And the first place I went was to Maison Rosabelle's because—believe you me—that cheap dress I had bought off her needed a plastic surgeon by then. Maison was as usual giving a unconscious imitation of a trained seal, switching gracefully around the store with a customer which she was hypnotizing into all forgetfulness of prices. But finally I got her alone long enough to express what I thought about the dress and any lady will be able to imagine what that was. Then I asked her could she fall in with my scheme which was on Saturday to take only Thrift Stamps or W.S.S. for each purchase and sell them the stamps herself. Maison didn't enthuse over the idea, though she's rich at that.

"Why, dearie! Not on a bet!" she said. "It ain't that I'm not patriotic, but this establishment is exclusive!"

Well, I seen there was no use arguing with her, and I guess there never is with a woman which is marcelle-waved every day of her life, not to mention that cheap fake of a dress. Next one I buy of her without a guarantee will be for her funeral! So I just left her flat and went over to Chamberlin's. Of course it takes a whole lot more brains to run a enormous cabaret and restaurant like his than Maison has to use if less nerve, he not coming personally into contact with the customers like she does, and I counted on this. I went in by the main door where a lady sat selling W.S.S. and she bored me to death with them while a captain went to find Chamberlin. When I seen him coming I tried to assume that sprightly and convincing manner of the sidewalk W.S.S. hounds, but was overcome with that deep seated sense of being about to make a flivver, which also shows on most of them. However, Chamberlin was a genial good soul and was crazy over stamps. But he had beat me to it on the admission only by buying stamps on Saturday night.

"Better try among your rich friends, Miss La Tour!" he says. "And you'll be surprised how many you'll sell. That's the easiest way unless you use a gun!"

"I don't want to sell to my friends," says I. "I want to sell to everybody—get folks to chip in. The chipping-in idea is what is so good—get together and all that."

Well, believe you me—after this I tried a dozen places and every one of them, stores and all, where I had any influence or charge account, had got theirselves so full of W.S.S. schemes that I felt like a helpless babe in arms as the poet says, before I was through. There was no room for my little $11,000 worth any place: they had all stocked up, and what to do next I had no idea.

On the way to the Ritz that night Ma didn't talk steady like she usually does and seemed kind of low in her mind, and maybe in her stomach also which I was the same by then. Not to mention the censor which it is better not to for fear I might say what I thought and he a Government official.

But anyways no sooner was we inside the hotel than two society swells tackled us for W.S.S. Oh, they was democratic, just! They spoke right to us, and everything! But my goat was got by it.

"A regular hold-up!" I whispered to Ma. And as I spoke them fateful words I remembered that I owned a gun, which it was left from a piece I done for the movies and I had kept it for a souvenir. Of course I dismissed the thought at once like the sensible woman I am. But somehow it wouldn't exactly stay away.

Did you ever get to seeing things as they really was and wondering why on earth people go through such a lot of motions pretending things is not what they seem, as some guy so truly says—do you get me? As soon as I had said "hold-up" I realized that that was just what was being done. And when I realized that it was necessary to hold up people in order to get them to make a safe investment which would earn them a good net profit while saving their fool lives, I got so raving mad that a gun seemed too good for them. And mad at myself, too, for not seeing sooner how much my own Jim's welfare was hanging onto my shoulders. Somehow up to then I had really a idea that the bunch down in Washington was relieving me of all trouble and responsibility about this war. But now I seen it wasn't so. If the G.A.P. or Great American People was actually such boobs that they didn't flock up and wish their life savings onto such a scheme, they had ought to be made to, same as Ma used to hold my nose for my own good and believe you me—I can taste that oil to this day!

Well, anyways, this philosophy stuff kept going through my mind while running up a considerable check which Gawd knows we needed it or the undertaker would of conscripted us. And then all of a sudden who did I see but Ruby Roselle only two tables away and with her a husky young lounge-lizzard which goes around with her a lot—you know—one of the kind whose favorite flower is the wild oat, but never has anything to spend but the evening. And him and Ruby had their heads together and was watching me like the German spies in a movie which every one in the audience spots except their victims which of course are looking at the director close up front which is certainly the only reason they are fooled.

Well, anyways, I was surprised to see Ruby because Broadway places is more her speed, and I never see her in such refined surroundings before. But I realizing about her kind of patriotism I commenced wondering wasn't she there to watch me? Though for what reason I had no idea.

That night after the show, I asked Goldringer wouldn't he use the admission by W.S.S. Saturday, and he wouldn't because he had it on for one of his other theatres. And so I went home in despair and a taxi, and was further cheered by a empty letter-box.

In the morning the cards come—a thousand of them—and certainly more elegant looking than I had expected, I will say that for Ruby and reading as follows:

"The Theatrical Ladies W.S.S. Committee will deliver to ............ of ............ worth of W.S.S. stamps on presentation of this card. Payment for same is hereby acknowledged."

Then came a blank which it was up to me to fill in. Well, I didn't hesitate and after a hearty breakfast of crackers and milk and weak tea, I tied up the lace sleeves of my negligee and set to work at signing them. Believe you me, before I was done I quite see why President Wilson used a rubber stamp! But I didn't weaken until noon, when any one would have on the meal I'd had. And by then they was finished anyways and every one of them valid and as good as my cheque. Then just as I was feeling proud of myself in come Ma and I could see at once she was going to take a fall out of me in her sweet womanly way.

"If you ain't too busy with your war work," says Ma very gentle but firm, "I'd like to talk to you about something before we set down to the skeleton lunch which is waiting and can be continued in our next for all I care!" she says.

Well, I got that gone-around-the-middle feeling which I always get when Ma gives me a certain look, just like I used to when she'd tell me soap was good for washing out the mouths of kids which had told a lie. And so I just set there and listened.

"Now, Mary Gilligan," she commenced. "Do you know the size of the cheque you signed over to the hotel last night?"

"About twelve-fifty," I says sort of getting a glimmer.

"When your Pa and me was married he give me twelve a week for all our meals!" she says, and set back and folded her hands in a way which said all she hadn't.

"But times has changed," I says sort of feeble.

"But appetites has not!" says Ma. "And how can you keep in good training on this war-nonsense?" she wanted to know. "Not to mention me, which it might improve my figure but never my disposition?"

"But how about making war sacrifices and all, Ma?" I says. "Jim ain't eating like we done up till yesterday!"

"Nor he ain't eating twelve dollar dinners at the Ritz, neither," she reminds me, at which of course I shut up and she went on. "Now I dont believe being stingy to ourselves is really gonner help the war. You have strode in upon my department for once, Mary Gilligan, and I'm going to put you out! You don't know where to economize and I do. No more eating out, and a good sensible table at home, minus cream cakes," she says, "is what we do from now on!"

And with that she marches out leaving me flat as one of her own pan-cakes. Well, this was bad enough, but when Musette got after me as I was dressing to go for my five miles, I seen that my humbling for the day was not finished.

"That dress Madam bought yesterday," she began.

"You can have it!" I said, beating her to it, or so I thought.

"Thank you, I do not care for it," says Musette. "I was just remarking it is really not fit to wear again. Madam would of done better to pay a little more!"

Can you beat it? You can not! Two falls from one pride! Believe you me I took some walk that afternoon, and if I had wore a speedomiter I bet it would have registered a lot over five miles. And while I was walking I kept getting madder and madder and more and more worked up over what boneheads people was and how was a person to economize nowadays and how on earth would I sell all them stamps by Saturday night with a matinÉe in between and keep my promise to President Wilson? It begun to look like I was going to have to become one of them sidewalk pests. I got a real good picture of myself going up to the proud or pesky passer-by, and getting turned down so often that my spirit was bent thinking of it.

But—believe you me—I made up my mind that if I had to hold up anybody to make them invest in the World's Soundest Securities or W.S.S. I would hold them up good and plenty and no disguise about it. I thought again about my revolver, the one which I had used it in the movies when I done "The Dancer's Downfall" for them and kept it for a souvenir. I was that wrought up over the situation that by the time I got home I had pretty near decided I'd take that fire-arm to the theatre and lock the doors and come down front center and shoot out one of the lights to show I meant it and then take the money right off the audience. The theatre being my native element it seemed only natural to pull the trick there, only being a lady the gun really did look a little rough only not more so than the public deserved.

V

Well, anyways, I was certainly up against it with all them blanks still on my hands and no way in sight of getting rid of them. And just to make things nice and pleasant, what do I see when I come on the stage that night but Ruby Roselle and her pet lounge-lizzard which were sitting in a box. She certainly seems to go in for reptiles for pets. And no sooner did I get off after my eighth curtain call, than around she comes to my dressing room and hands me a check for her stamps and for the ones she had undertaken to sell and already had.

"I suppose yours is all sold too!" says Ruby. "You are so efficient, dearie!"

"Oh, mine are all right!" I snapped. "Or will be by this time to-morrow."

"Why, ain't they gone?" she cooed. And did I wish for my gun? I did! "Ain't you give any of them cards out yet?" she says.

"No!" I says. "But I will—I'll commence with you, dear Miss Roselle," I says. "And here you are"—and I filled out the receipt cards which I had a few in my vanity case for emergencies, and give them to her. When she took them I noticed she had a awful funny look in her eye, but at the time it meant nothing to me. Alas! Would I had heeded it more—but no—solid ivory! Solid ivory! I passed it up completely. And Ruby grabbed the cards, collected her new pet animal, and went away.

Well, my state of mind that night was distinctly poor, even after the nice little well-ballanced war-ration of hot chocolate and corn bread with brown sugar which Ma had for me and delicious as anything you ever ate if she did get the recipe out of a newspaper and they so unreliable nowadays. But no letter from Jim, and so after I had asked Ma if she thought it was right to wear black, I went to bed and fell into a exhausted sleep which lasted well on toward the box-office man's afternoon on, because Ma always lets me sleep late when I have to dance twice.

Well, anyways, I was so rushed getting to the theatre for the matinÉe that I hadn't no time to try any of that sidewalk stuff, only I did get a cheque from each of the other committee members and told Ma to send them receipt cards. And did I feel cheap? I did! A flivver, that was what I had made. But so long as Jim was surely dead by now, I didn't care for myself. Only my promise to Mr. Wilson made a lump in my throat while doing my three hand-springs and the "Valse Superb," which shows how bad I felt. And what do you know, when I took my encore, there was Ruby Roselle again, down in front and all alone.

This got about the last butt out of my goat and I sent an usher to get her, but Ruby had went before the usher had made up her mind to undertake the mission. I was just about wild all the way home, and the sight of Ma's face when I got there almost made me cry it was that sweet and friendly. Honest to Gawd when Ma has got her own way about anything she is just lovely to be with! And having got the kitchen back and the grandest dish of baked beans all full of molasses and salt pork for dinner, she was feeling fine and I was the same under her influence and even let her play "Sing Me to Sleep" with the loud pedal on Jim's souvenir afterwards and never said a word to her about it, though suffering while I listened. And then it was time to go back to the theatre and I took Musette and that whole box of gilt edged securities which seemed no good to nobody, but I took them, and a good yet bad thing I did, for on the way downtown I decided what to do, and when I got there, called the ushers and gave them instructions and a little something else by way of promoting kindly feelings. And then with beating heart I beat it for the dressing room and commenced rubbing on my make-up cream with trembling fingers.

Did you ever make one of them critical decisions which you knew in your heart you was actually going to carry it through and no camouflage, even if it killed you and it very likely to? Well, when I decided to make a speech right out in public I got that feeling—do you get me? And any Elk or other lodge member which attends annual banquets will know what I mean. Honest to Gawd I nearly missed my cue, and after I finally got on the stage the dance I did must of been either automatic or a inspiration and I don't know why they liked it out in front, but they did. All I personally myself could hear was "Ladies and Gentleman, I want to speak a word to you,"—You know! And hand-springs in between! Well of course when I come out for my first encore I didn't have the wind to say nothing—But my eyes was as good as ever and there in a box was Ruby Roselle again!

Believe you me—that was a jolt and a half! Here she had come to give me the laugh I had no doubt, and somehow after the second call my wind was all of a sudden back good and strong, and with it came my courage. For I wouldn't of been downed by her, not for anything!

So stepping foreward in a modest manner I held up my hand and the house got quiet and listened. As I have said, the show was at the Spring Garden, and it's awful big and I had never knew how full of silence it could be until I heard the sound of my own voice all alone in it. But after a minute I got used to it, and so interested in trying to convince the folks, that I didn't care.

"Ladies and Gentlemen," I says. "This is going to be a plain, good old-fashioned hold-up! If you listen hard, maybe you'll hear the screams of the women and children, and the groans of the wounded pocket-books! Far be it from me to do anything so unrefined as to actually use a gun on you," I says, "but I'm going to do the next thing to it. I'm going to sell eleven thousand dollars worth of W.S.S. right here and now, and you are going to buy them. I know all of you has probably been buying them all day and is sick of them, but I have personally promised President Wilson to do as much by to-night without fail and you must help me make good. And no matter how many you have bought," I says, "unless you have a thousand dollars worth you can spend another ten or so apiece. Now, as I say, I know this is a hold-up, because it is meant to be. And any public which can sit here in a theatre and feel anoyed at having to buy a few stamps when a million of our boys is over in far-away, sort of unreal France, giving their lives, had ought to have a machine gun turned on them from this stage instead of a line of talk! Probably this is the first time in the history of finances that it has been necessary to jolly a crowd into making a good investment. If I was selling stock in a fake gold mine," I says, "you would probably be climbing on the stage to get it! Now will everybody willing to take ten dollars worth kindly stand up?"

There was a few laughs, and a few people got up here and there, sort of shamefaced.

"Come on!" I says. "Come on—are you all cripples? You over there—only ten dollars—save it on next months grocery bill—all right—save it on your auto bill!"

A few more got up then, but not nearly enough and I caught sight of Goldringer in the wings by then and not having warned him what I was going to do, I could tell by his expression that I mustn't hold the stage too long or a militaristic system would right away be born in our theatre. So I got desperate.

"No more!" I called. "Oh, come on get up! Will I send for crutches, or are you only shy? Remember, I got that money promised! Only ten dollars each!"

But no more stirred. For a minute I thought my flivver was complete, and then I got a idea. I went over and beckoned to George, the orchestra leader, and shaking all over at my own nerve, I whispered to him. George grinned and passed along the whisper to his crew, and in another minute that audience was standing, every last one of them, and—believe you me—the Star Spangled Banner had never sounded so good to me before!

Well, anyways, my pep all come back and I jumped off the stage as I see the ushers couldn't possibly handle the orders alone, and wait or no wait, the way that audience took my hold-up was something grand, it was that good natured, although of course a Broadway crowd gets sort of hardened to having their money taken away from them roughly. They was lambs, and took cards so fast I couldn't have shuffled them good if it had been a game.

Well, anyways, when I finally got back to my dressing-room and the trained animals had come on at last—believe you me—I was all in, but not a card left, and not alone eleven thousand dollars but thirteen-fifty in actual cash! I didn't worry none about having too much as I never see a committee yet which couldn't use more money than it had ast for, the White Kittens always having a deficit. And then I just put the boodle away safe in my tin make-up box which I had emptied because it locked good, and took me and Musette and it home to Ma.

Well, that was about all for that, and I had a fine sleep that night after sending the President a wire telling him I had the money all right. And if only the censor had loosened up, I would have been perfectly happy, with all that cash in my little Burglar's Delight over the mantle-piece and a good real energy-making breakfast coming to me in the morning.

But alas for false security, as the poet says. No sooner had Ma and me ate breakfast next morning than in came Musette and says there are two gentlemen outside wants to see me. Well, it seems they wouldn't give their names so I says show them in for on account of Ma always making us dress in real clothes for breakfast Sundays, it was alright.

Well, in come two gentlemen then, and it was easy to see one was a cop. Why he didn't have green whiskers or something I dont know because the one citizen you can always spot is a cop, and that tweed suit was no disguise, although he seemed to think so. I got a awful funny feeling in my stomach at this sight although there was nothing on my mind but my hair pins. The other was a gentleman and no disguise about him, and I sort of took to him right away and dropped my society-comedy manner which is such a good weapon of defense against strangers because I knew right away he would see through it on account of him being the real thing.

"Miss LaTour?" he says politely.

"Yes," I says, "what can I do for you?"

"Alias Mary Gilligan?" says the cop, which was right in character and hadn't ought to of got Ma's goat like it done.

"Alias nothing!" says Ma. "Gilligan is her right name and you can see my marriage certificate and the date is on it plain!"

"Better leave this to me for a moment, O'Rourke," says the nice gentleman, about Pa's age, he must have been. Then he turns to me while the cop took a back seat.

"Miss LaTour," the gent. began, "I am one of the local W.S.S. committee—Pioneer Division—Pierson Langton is my name. And I have come to see you concerning your sale last night!"

Well—believe you me—the minute I heard his name I had him spotted! One of the F. F. V's of N.Y. and I had often seen his name in the paper with war-work and all.

"Do sit down, both!" I says real cordial. "I am so glad to see you! It's kind of you to come, because of course I was going to bring you the money the first thing in the morning! Just wait till I get my make-up box!"

And without giving him time to say another word I hurried out and got it, the cop watching me with his hand on his hip. When I come back and give Mr. Langton the box and key, he looked real surprised.

"Twenty-five thousand cash!" I says. "Would you mind counting it?" He give me one of the funniest looks I ever had handed out, but he done like I asked. Then he got up, box under one arm, and bowed, and sat down again.

"Miss LaTour," he said. "I think I win a bet with our friend O'Rourke, here! I was sure you were all right. Your reputation was on the face of it too valuable for such an open fraud. And your utter disingenuousness is the final proof!"

"Fraud! What do you mean?" I gasped.

"There's been a complaint about your selling W.S.S. without no authority!" says O'Rourke at this. "Entered last night by Miss Ruby Roselle. We got your cards here, that she handed in. But you ain't got no stamps! I dont know but what we ought to make a arrest, Mr. Langton!"

"I will be obliged to you if you will let the matter drop for the moment," says Mr. Langton. "This young lady acted in good faith, I am convinced. And now, Miss LaTour, perhaps you will tell us how this all came about?"

Well, did I tell him? I did! I never told anything readier. And then I took out the President's letter which I had it on me, and told how I had writ to him at once, partially because I couldn't read the other fellows name.

"I accept the reproof," said Mr. Langton. "I will get a rubber-stamp to-morrow!"

Then his eyes twinkled at me in the nicest way, and I twinkled back, and after that I knew the cop hadn't a chance of running me in, which was a big relief, for my hands felt like a couple of clams, about then, I was so scared.

"So you ain't mad?" I says to Mr. Langton.

"Not a bit!" he says. "I think it can all be straightened out. But of course you understand that what you did was a trifle—er—irregular. If you will come down to headquarters to-morrow and meet the members of our board, we will be glad to assist you in forming a more regular organization."

And I said I would, and then we all said good-by real friendly, even the cop. And I felt awful sort of excited and scared and glad that Ruby had pulled that stuff, for if she hadn't I might actually of gone to jail, I could see that plain enough now! And so, to let off a little steam when they had all gone I sat down to my souvenir and started off "Over There in Four Handed Arrangement." Then just as I had got it going good, Ma, who was reading the Sunday paper, gave a holler. I turned around quick, and there her eyes was popping out of her head and glued to the front page.

"Jim!" she shrieked. "My Gawd!"

Well, how I reached that paper I don't know, but somehow I did and there it was right in the middle column.

"American Dancer Now An Ace. James La Tour Brings Down Three Enemy Planes In One Afternoon."

Oh, my heavens! Didn't I yell, just! And me knocking the newspapers and the censor. And all the time Jim had been merely too busy to write!