IT was at this period that Sara, Alice and Tom's mother went shopping in a nearby city. Alice had always marveled at those mothers who took their children shopping for fun. It is bad enough to go to town and shop at the best, and it is hard enough shopping with a child like slippery Sara, even in country towns; but to think of what you want and to keep your eye on a slippery Sara at the same time was one of those heroic tasks that Alice considered fit only for a race of super-women yet unborn.
So when her mother-in-law said she would also join the party Alice felt her cup was more than full. Encumbered with a ponderous elderly relative who shopped with a relentless ferocity and whose mobility was that of the mastodon, one could accomplish but little.
When on the train her grandmother leaned back, opened a hand bag of a size which one might have packed for a week-end, and from that drew out another smaller bag, and from this drew out a magnificent change purse and from this again extracted a two-dollar bill which she presented to Sara, saying:
"Now, Sara dear, this is for you. You may buy whatever you like with it."
When this happened Alice felt that a martyr's crown had been placed upon her head.
"How much do you suppose that is, Sara?" said her grandmother.
"Far too much to give to Sara," interposed Alice.
