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"'Oh, yes, she liked the pin,' said Mellicent, all teary; 'she thinks it's beautiful. But she doesn't want anything. She says she never heard of such foolish goings-on—paying all that money for a silly, useless pin. I—I told her 'twas a PRESENT from me, but she made me take it back. I'm on my way now back to the store. I'm to get the money, if I can. If I can't, I'm to get a credit slip. Mother says we can take it up in forks and spoons and things we need. I—I told her 'twas a present, but—' She couldn't say another word, poor child. She just turned and almost ran from the room. That was last night. She went away this morning, I suppose. I didn't see her again, so I don't know how she did come out with the store-man."

"Too bad—too bad!" sympathized Miss Maggie. (Over at the table Mr. Smith had fallen to writing furiously, with vicious little jabs of his pencil.) "But Jane never did believe in present-giving. They never gave presents to each other even at Christmas. She always called it a foolish, wasteful practice, and Mellicent was always SO unhappy Christmas morning!"

"I know it. And that's just what the trouble is. Don't you see? Jane never let 'em take even comfort, and now that they CAN take some comfort, Jane's got so out of the habit, she don't know how to begin."

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"Careful, careful, Flora!" laughed Miss Maggie. "I don't think YOU can say much on that score."

"Why, Maggie Duff, I'M taking comfort," bridled Miss Flora. "Didn't I have chicken last week and turkey three weeks ago? And do I ever skimp the butter or hunt for cake-rules with one egg now? And ain't I going to Niagara and have a phonograph and move into a fine place just as soon as my mourning is up? You wait and see!"

"All right, I'll wait," laughed Miss Maggie. Then, a bit anxiously, she asked: "Did Fred go to-day?"

"Yes, looking fine as a fiddle, too. I was sweeping off the steps when he went by the house. He stopped and spoke. Said he was going in now for real work—that he'd played long enough. He said he wouldn't be good for a row of pins if he had many such weeks as this had been."

"I'm glad he realized it," observed Miss Maggie grimly. "I suppose the

Gaylord young people went, too."

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"Hibbard did, but Pearl doesn't go till next week. She isn't in the same school with Bess, you know. It's even grander than Bess's they say. Hattie wants to get Bess into it next year. Oh, I forgot; we've got to call her 'Elizabeth' now. Did you know that?"

Miss Maggie shook her head.

"Well, we have. Hattie says nicknames are all out now, and that 'Elizabeth' is very stylish and good form and the only proper thing to call her. She says we must call her 'Harriet,' too. I forgot that."

"And Benny 'Benjamin'?" smiled Miss Maggie.

"Yes. And Jim 'James.' But I'm afraid I shall forget—sometimes."