"Anyhow, the publisher seems disposed to do so." "Are you the publisher?
I thought it was Mr.Dryfoos," said Alma.
"It is." "Oh!" The tone and the word gave Fulkerson a discomfort which he promptly confessed.

"Missed again." The girls laughed, and he regained something of his lost spirits, and smiled upon their gayety, which lasted beyond any apparent reason for it.
Miss Woodburn asked, "And is Mr.Dryfoos senio' anything like ouah Mr.
Dryfoos ?" "Not the least." "But he's jost as exemplary ?" "Yes; in his way." "Well, Ah wish Ah could see all those pinks of puffection togethah, once." "Why, look here! I've been thinking I'd celebrate a little, when the old gentleman gets back.

Have a little supper--something of that kind.

How would you like to let me have your parlors for it, Mrs.Leighton?
You ladies could stand on the stairs, and have a peep at us, in the bunch." "Oh, mah! What a privilege! And will Miss Alma be there, with the othah contributors?
Ah shall jost expah of envy!" "She won't be there in person," said Fulkerson, "but she'll be represented by the head of the art department." "Mah goodness! And who'll the head of the publishing department represent ?" "He can represent you," said Alma.
"Well, Ah want to be represented, someho'." "We'll have the banquet the night before you appear on the cover of our fourth number," said Fulkerson.
"Ah thoat that was doubly fo'bidden," said Miss Woodburn.

"By the stern parent and the envious awtust." "We'll get Beaton to get round them, somehow.