The advent of musical culture was signified by this: "At least thirty girls in this town can play the first part of 'Narcissus' pretty well. But when they come to the second part they mangle the keys for a minute and then say, 'I don't care much for that second part—do you?' Why don't some of them learn it and give us a chance to judge?"
The Argus had acquired a "Woman's Department," conducted by Mrs. Aurelia Potts Denney, wife of the editor,—a public-spirited woman, prominent in club circles, and said to be of great assistance to her husband in his editorial duties. The town was proud of her, and sent her as delegate to the Federation of Woman's Clubs; her name, indeed, has been printed in full more than once, even by Chicago newspapers. Some say that wisely she might give more attention to her twin sons, Hayes and Wheeler Denney; but this likely is ill-natured carping, for Hayes and Wheeler seem not more lawless than other twins of eight. And carpers, to a certainty, do exist in Little Arcady.
One Westley Keyts, for example, lounging in the doorway of his meat-shop, renewed acquaintance with the wanderer, who remembered him as a glum-faced but not bad-hearted chap. Names recalled and hands shaken, Mr. Keyts began to lament the simple ways of an elder day, glancing meanwhile with honest disapproval at a newly installed competitor across the street. The shop itself was something of an affront, its gilt name more—"The Bon Ton Market." Mr.
