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the corner of his mouth. Still busily As he stepped into the hot downpour, agitating his tooth-brush, so as not to


the door-bell rang. waste any time, he paddled to the dumb- “Whoever that is can wait." waiter and called : “He'o! Whash you But apparently the person in question wa'?

had no desire to do so, for the bell sounded “Garbage!” replied a gruff voice. A again and again. To complete the symrattling of ropes announced that the car phony, the telephone chimed in with its was on its way.

merry tune. Mr. Blodger opened the "sanitary gar- "Gwendolyn !" called Mr. Blodger, disbage closet," and, screwing up his face and tractedly amid the roar of waters. tooth-brush, seized something that was But she, having fallen into a pleasant mighty unlike a rose. He held the pail doze while waiting for her breakfast, did out at arm's-length as he carried it to the not hear him. The bells and buzzer had dumb-waiter.

by this time settled into a sustained chord Buzz, buzz, buzz, went the buzzer. like that of the whistles at New-year's.

“Huh?” gurgled Mr. Blodger, ner- Bounding out of the tub to the mat, vously swallowing a generous amount of Mr. Blodger wrapped his form, which tooth-paste.

still glistened with pearly drops, in his "Garbage!" repeated the voice.

bath-robe, and clattered frigidly down the Mr. Blodger looked helplessly at the hall. can on the dumb-waiter and then at his "Hello!” he cried, snatching off the incapacitated hands.

telephone-receiver. “No, this is not “Put your garbage on!" roared the Schmittberger the butcher!" Then he voice.

darted to the front door. Opening it, he Mr. Blodger sputtered; then, extracting found the postman waiting with a letter. the tooth-brush with the fourth and fifth “Two cents due, please.” knuckles of his left hand, he shouted back The buzzer continued its heavy dronindignantly:

ing, and the telephone started up again. “I 'id!”

"Two cents, two cents,” repeated Mr. “Then why did n't you say so?” And Blodger in befuddlement. down went the dumb-waiter with a jerk. The postman stared.

Mr. Blodger returned to the bath- “Two cents; yes, two cents,” reiterated room. As he was in the midst of shaving, Mr. Blodger, groping immodestly for the buzzer sounded again. This time he pockets where there were none. was on the alert and ready for any argu- "You said that before." ment. Leaving his razor, but not his "Oh, excuse me! I 'll get it right off. lather, he hurried back to the kitchen in a Now, where did I put that purse? Let combative mood.

me think.” But thinking in the neighbor"What do you want?" he yelled defi- hood of that telephone was an impossibilantly as he opened the door of the dumb- ity. He would have to quiet the thing. waiter. There was no answer; but facing So, clapping the receiver to his ear, he prohim on the shelf of the car stood his empty tested, "Hello! hello!" pail, silent, stolid, indifferent to his “Will you kindly give me Schmittberbravado. He snatched it off and returned ger's butcher shop?" to his ablutions.

“Good grief !” he exclaimed, letting the On account of the extreme lateness of receiver fall. It swung by its tail, penthe hour, he decided to finish off with a dulum-wise, barking infuriated clicks. quick shower-bath, first hot and then cold. Mr. Blodger staggered to the bedroom. Just as he had removed his last garment, With reeling brain, he ransacked all his the buzzer sounded again.

chiffonier drawers for the purse which was "Aw, go ahead and buzz!” he said be- lying in plain view on top. By the time tween his teeth.

he had discovered it and started back to

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the door, the buzzer in the kitchen was against the side of the doorway. In so having delirium tremens. Floundering to doing, his eye fell upon a collection of the spot, he gasped :

objects that had been deposited in front “What do you want?”

of the sill— the morning newspaper, a bot"Ice!" was the husky reply.

tle of milk, one of cream, and a bag con"All right, I 'll send it down. No, I taining a long loaf of bread. He stooped mean, you send it up."

over and gathered them up carefully one As the dumb-waiter rose, the tempera- by one. Just as he had stowed away the ture fell, and Mr. Blodger soon found newspaper under one arm and gripped the himself in the presence of a beautiful blue bag with his left hand and the two bottles berg. With chattering teeth, he reached with his right, the chilliness in him culforward and drew it to him. The door of minated in a sneeze, and everything fell. the dumb-waiter closed automatically, and Both bottles smashed. Landing just on he was left alone in the kitchen with the

the sill, they distributed their contents imiceberg in his arms.

partially outside and inside. How to open the ice-box was a problem. Finding that the proportion of the flood After attempting unsuccessfully to cajole that the bread and the newspaper were the catch by fondling it with the corner of able to sop up was small, though they did the berg, he tried nudging it with his el- what they could, Mr. Blodger hastily probow. It would not take the hint. Indeed, cured a bucket and rag from the kitchen, it refused utterly to move until he got where the ice was indulging in a flood of down on his knees before it and rubbed it its own, and set to work mopping. As he with his shoulder.

sprawled out into the hallway, gingerly Finally, however, the door opened, dis- squeezing out ragfuls of cream and broken closing a rival berg, attended by a throng glass, the door opposite was opened and a of bottles, siphons, and butter-crocks. A handsome woman appeared, attired in cold, inhospitable crowd they were, resent- fashionable street dress. She looked him ing any intrusion.

straight in the eye. Thus rebuffed, Mr. Blodger, who felt Mr. Blodger clasped his bath-robe to as though he were being frozen and him, made a frenzied recoil, slammed the cauterized at the same time, deposited the door, and collapsed into the pool of milk. berg upon the cover of the wash-tubs. It “Henry dear, is breakfast nearly coasted forward, threatening an avalanche. ready?" called his loving wife. Clutching it at the brink, he paused, and Enraged and dripping, he leaped up wondered what he would do next.

with sudden strength, and started for the The door-bell saved him the trouble of bedroom, spluttering incoherent expostudeciding. He had entirely forgotten the lations as he went. postman! Setting the berg upon a chair, At that moment there was heard the he scurried out, and offered him a dollar sound of a latch-key, and a grinning black bill, chattering apologies for the delay. face appeared.

“Have n't you anything smaller ?" “Good mawnin', sah. Somefin' seems asked the postman, impatiently.

to be spilt heah." “N-no, I d-don't think so.”

Fetching a large cloth, she set to work "Then why did you keep me here all with easy dexterity. this time? I 'll have to come back later." Mr. Blodger, fascinated, watched the He started off.

lake disappear. “Stop! Wait a moment! I'd rather "You bes' get dress', sah. Ah 'll have make you a present of the ninety-eight yo’ breakfas' ready in a couple o' minutes." cents. Oh, glory! that 'll have to be gone "Thank Heaven you 're here, Maria!" through with all over again!"

he said fervently. “I was almost afraid Discouraged and shivering, he leaned

you were n't coming."

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you 're furled. Little white camisole loved by a lady, Here 's your last chance; make your

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"C. F."



Illustrations by F. R. Gruger.

Illustrations by Dalton Stevens.

War and Religion.
Business Patriotism
Public Opinion and the Politician.
The Christmas Curse....
National Safety and the Party System.
The End of an Era?.
Why Not?..

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Jean Webster...
Sketches by the author and an illustration by Herman Pfeifer.

Armand Dayot.....
Pictures from original paintings never before reproduced.


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.Winthrop Talbot .......



.Ruth Comfort Mitchell....400

.Baron Eiichi Shibusawa .. 541


Illustrations by Maginel Wright Enright.

Portrait of the author, from photograph.

Thomas F. Millard.....
.E. R. Lipsett....


.Ines Haynes Gillmore..... 705


Illustrations by Everett Shinn.

Illustrations by Henry Raleigh.

William Dean Howells.... 801

.Lawton Mackall..

... 957

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