quently appealing; and the voice of the Harding child fell sweetly upon the ears of her mother:
Grows tubby without exercise.
My teddy bear is short and fat—
Which is not to be wondered at!
He gets what exercise he can
From falling off the ottoman,
But gen-er-al-ly seems to lack
The energy to scramble back. . . ."
The "piece" (by A. A. Milne) went on and on, and it was all the "audience" could do to keep from rising to its feet and embracing the speaker in her adorableness. But the "audience" was too well-trained. The princess, like the princess's father before her, demanded strictest attention from an audience, and this audience knew that the princess's kisses were given only upon completion of oratorical delivery.
Never did a queen more completely rule the hearts of her subjects than did this diminutive princess her "audience," whose heart she had always possessed! Never did the father of this princess move his myriad listeners to greater tranquillity of heart! The princess restored her mother's hopefulness and strength of purpose.
That night I prayed anew that her father's people would help me to keep my darling. Would my prayer be answered?
Under date of February 5th, 1926, my rent falling due on the coming 10th, I wired Daisy Harding as follows:
