which Galvin elected to serve me was not fit for a fretful child, and I could not eat it. When I set myself to write, my pencil points made more breaks than the Messrs. Westinghouse. A collar which had never irked me might as well have been a circular saw, for all the comfort I derived from its contact with my neck. It was a general half-holiday for the horse-hairs which formed the stuffing of my chair cushions. Where it was their custom to attend strictly to business, now they all had their heads out of the windows of their dwellings, taking the air. The house was full of flies. A dog, with whom I was not even on speaking terms, went round and round the bungalow, yapping for a wager. Dolorously-warbled reminiscences of a supposititious life in marble halls, in the company of vassals and serfs, came to my ears from Galvin at the wash-tub. At length, in a pure white passion, I strode off through the woods, turned my ankle, was caught in a drenching thunder-
