see why he cared. I'm sure it was hard enough work for me to collect them from the bottom of my purse; they were scattered among the other change, and I thought I would never find five.

Most of the people got off at Forty-second Street, and I really had a chance to sit down, with plenty of room at one side of me. So I put my muff down on the seat, to settle my hat, which had been banged to one side in that awful crush. When I went to take my muff up again, the woman next me held it in her lap. I said, "Pardon me, madam, that is my muff." She looked at me in a fixed way and didn't say a word. I said again, "You have my muff." Then she glared at me and said, "Are you crazy?" I felt for my tippet, which is of the same fur, you know; but as it was so warm this afternoon I hadn't worn it. The woman then started to get off. I started after her, and told the conductor that she had stolen my muff. He said, with a grin, "I guess not." I suppose he was still angry with me about the pennies. By that time she was off the car and I after her. About halfway down the block I saw a policeman. The woman was going toward him and I was just a few steps behind. When she got to him she rushed right up and said, "This woman is trying to steal my muff. I wish you would arrest her." Think of it! Me, Jack!! I told him she had taken my muff. I was so furious I could hardly speak. He said, "Well, you must settle it between yourselves or I'll have to arrest you both." I couldn't stand that and walked away, half crying. My only comfort is that I'd carried that muff for three whole months and everyone knew it. Now I can have that smart sable one I saw, can't I, Jack, dear? (Pause, then a beaming smile.) Oh! you're so good. (Thoughtfully.) Well, I saved the cab fare, anyway, so I'm not so very extravagant.

When I arrived at the Browns' I was so disarranged and excited that Billy Treat asked me if I came in an auto. Grace Brown looked awfully sweet; had on the dearest chiffon gown. I'm dying to know who made it. A bit more potato, Jack. Thanks; that's enough. No, I don't want one just like it; but I do think it would suit my style better than it did hers. . . . What! You

think she dresses well? Oh! sometimes, not always. She's nothing but a bean-pole, anyway.

From the Browns' I went on to the Jennings'. Nothing much happened there, except that I had the good fortune to find that Mrs. Peel was going over to the Wrights'. So I drove over with her and had time to settle myself before we arrived. It was such a relief after that awful car experience. (Unconsciously passing plate for more potato.) Is it really three times? Well, I won't eat another thing until we come to dessert. That's just a bit of pudding and whipped cream; that can't be fattening.

Oh! I must tell you the most exciting event of the afternoon; and it's awfully serious, too. I'd just finished saying the usual nice things to Mrs. Wright and the girls-how charming they looked; how dear of them to send us cards; that you so hoped to be with me, and how sweet the rooms were-when the maid came rushing through the rooms with Tiny, their beautiful Japanese spaniel. Tiny was crying and waving his feet in the air, and the maid was crying, too. You can imagine the excitement-Maud and Alice love Tiny just as I love Toto. We all commanded the maid to tell us what had happened, whereupon she fainted and Tiny lay stretched out as though dead. Someone hurried for a doctor for Tiny, and at last we brought the maid to, so she could tell us what was the trouble.

It seems they've always given Tiny gin to keep her from growing. . . . No, Jack, you awful boy, she wasn't drunk. She's a beautiful, well-bred dog. Why, she and Toto had the same grandfather. She'd taken poison, that's what she'd done. They'd left some wood-alcohol in the butler's pantry after having filled the lamp for the tea-kettle, and Tiny must have mistaken it for gin. Wasn't it awful? . . Jack, how can you laugh? Drunk, after all! You know she was? No one but a man would say such things. Now stop laughing. Why, I believe you'd laugh if it had happened to Toto.

So now you wish my Toto dead! But he isn't, and Tiny isn't, either. The doctor said all she needed was the gold-cure. Oh! I wonder whether he was laughing, too. It's dreadful-I sha'n't stay here another

minute. I shall go to Toto; he, at least, understands me. (Crying and starting to go.) I'm not a foolish girl, and you weren't joking, and you did mean it, Jack, every word of it. . . . Well, you said it as though you did, and you laughed, you laughed right out loud... Did you really? To hide your true feeling and to cheer me up? Truly, Jack? And you do love Toto? ... You want to know how Tiny is, and you're going to telephone now? I knew you couldn't mean all the dreadful things you said. . . . Yes, you may kiss me. (Pause. Sitting again at the table with an entire change of mood.) Now, I'm going to eat my pudding.

The Gift of Tact*

BY CHARLES BATTELL LOOMIS.

Come right in. Glad to see yer. Won't you be

seated? Seems to me you ain't lookin' as well as usual. Does your heart trouble you any? I had a brother who dropped right off fro mheart trouble, and he was complected just like you. Won't you remove your bunnet? You say you think it's only indigestion. Maybe; but ef I was you I'd see a doctor.

I s'pose you heerd that Sayrah Hanson's broke off her engagement with Harmon Baxter. You know, I met her at the mission circle, and as I've known her ever sence she was knee-high to a hop-toad, I told her I did hope she'd be able to save him from a drunkard's grave; an' she wanted to know what I meant, an' I said: "Well, I guess I've said enough, and I won't say no more." And, indeed, there warn't no more to say, but I see that she was upset, and I always think that least said is soonest mended. He's perfectly sober and respectable, I under

*(Abridged from "The Century Magazine.")

stand, but his father was a drunkard, and you never can tell; but maybe I oughtn't to have said so much. But, anyways, I stopped, and next I heerd she'd broke off the engagement on account of his habits. I really think I did him a service, because she wasn't worth havin' ef she'd stop without tryin' to save him.

I want to know ef you've met the noo people that's moved into the Granger place? Harlen, the name is. I met Mis' Harlen at the sewin'-circle, and I said I hoped she was no relation to Dick Harlen that was sent up to the penitentiary for forgery. And then she turned scarlet, an' I said: "Well, of course it couldn't be a relation, because Harlen is only your married name; but they say Dick's brother Tom married an awful common woman." And then she turned scarleter than ever, an' said she wished folks would mind their own business; an', come to find out, she was Tom's wife. I didn't like the way she bridled up over an un'tentional remark; an', fer my part, I don't intend to call on her.

Do you know Joe Ardsley? Joseph Carrington Ardsley he is now, sence he become an author. I met him the other day at the lawn party the Weldons give to their daughter-in-law, that rich Noo York girl that their son married. 'Most everyone was there-all the summer folks, of course, and a good many of the village folks, because the Weldons are popular in spite of their money. I hadn't seen Joe Ardsley before sence he printed that novel of his, and I found that success had sp'iled him. He was talkin' to them rich Saltonstalls from over Worcester way, and I pushed right up, for I was glad to see him-he wintered and summered in South Hanaford two years-an' so I says real hearty: "Well, Mr. Ardsley, I'm real pleased to see you an' Mrs. Ardsley again, an' to hear about your success at writin' books. I suppose you've mos' forgot the days when you was so hard put to get along, an' had to go barefoot a whole summer because you didn't want to owe the shoemaker. My land," I says, "how you and your wife did have to skimp! I s'pose you can buy meat nowadays without enquirin' the price."

Well, do you know, he never took it the way I meant it at all; and his wife she looked mad enough to kill me.

I never did like her. Well, the Saltonstalls they was kind of edgin' off, as ef they was ashamed of hearin' about Mr. Ardsley's hard times, an' so I wanted to show 'em that I liked him in them days; an', besides, I must say I was kinder proud of knowin' him now, seein' his name is in every paper you pick up; so, although I hadn't had an introduction to them, I says: "I've known the time, sir, when this young man was glad to come to Sunday dinner to my house, because I made sure to hev chicken an' he wasn't sure of anythin' at home. Was you, Mr. Ardsley? Well, I'm glad you succeeded," says I; "but you mustn't never forget them days, because ef you hadn't struggled an' skimped and be'n helped then, you wouldn't never have got anywhere. But," I says, "I never will forget how low in mind an' pocket you was when you first come to South Hanaford to live."

Now, no one could say I didn't speak as kind as I could, because I liked that young man; but success has turned his head, for he answered me so short an' so unlike the smilin' Joe of the old days that I felt friz up, an' went into the room where they was servin' hot soup that looked like tea, jes so's to get my feelin's ca'med.

Ef his wife thinks she's goin' to make him forget what he riz from, I don't intend he should. I guess it's no disgrace to eat chicken dinner at my house, an' he's beholden to me more than that, for they say that I gev him the idee for one of the characters in his novel -Mrs. Tackless. Awful queer name, an' there's nothin' in the character to remind me of myself.

Don't go. Ain't there an awful lot of sickness an' death aroun' this spring? I told Rev. Green that I never knowed it to be so excitin' as it is this year. No tellin' who'll be called next. I was tellin' Sayrah Taintor that I didn't think her father had what you might call a strong hold on life, an' I was glad he was prepared for the life to come. Queer how things hits folks. She didn't seem to like it at all. She's kind o' flighty, I think. I sh'd think she'd be glad her father was a Christian, church-goin' man. I told her so, too. I said if he was sech another man as his brother Peleg, his