"You accused me of bein' her." "Shucks! Woman nothin'! I knowed it was a man.

Here's somethin' you don't know, Alf.

I sized up the foot-prints on my front steps jest after she--I mean he--dropped the basket.

The toes turned outward, plain as day, right there in the snow." He paused to let the statement settle in their puzzled brains.

"Don't you know that one hunderd percent of the women turn their toes in when they go upstairs?
To keep from hookin' into their skirts?
Thunder, you oughter of thought of that, too!" Some one had posted Anderson on this peculiarly feminine trait, and he was making the best of it.