as a weaver s beam, he bore with obvious effort a ten-foot mahogany curtain-pole, one end of which terminated in a most realistic spearhead. The one drawback to possession of this truly imposing weapon was the fact that it quite precluded the use of a shield.
David, as became a modest shepherd boy, appeared simply and suitably arrayed in a fur stole clasped about his middle and armed with a modern-looking catapult. Dangling from his neck was what looked uncommonly like a sponge-bag.
"Ready?" he asked.
"What have you got in there?" replied the President, eyeing her colleague's make-up with approval, and pointing to the bag.
"Pebbles from the brook," was the ominously simple answer.
"I thought so. I'll choose the pebbles from the brook," and laboriously depositing the mighty spear upon the ground, the President quitted the Club premises, rootled in Daddy's office room, and quickly returned with a small soft woollen ball whose proper use was that of a dummy golf-
