Norwich bulletin., 1916-08-22
MOVING DAY.

It was moving day in Mrs. Smiths
 home, or rather. what she had called home. The ugly. dismantled look o1 l her apartment gave no hint of it's for ] ner cOzineSs. Barrels and packing l cases usurped neatness and order, anC
 chaos reigned supreme. But the worst 1 was now over; only one day more, and | the moving van would back up to heI ] door, and take away all goods and 1 chattels to a place of safe keeping for
 the sumner while she hied herself
 away for a long vacation.
 l A hurdy-gurdy outside started to | play I'm on My Way" and Mrs. Smith 1 opening the window, reclzlessly threw | the munificent sum of e dime to the l unoffending son of Italy. Take it, 1 she called out gaily to the surprised man. This dime has been waiting for you. Your music is very appropriate I'm on my way; you bet I'm on my way; and the best of it is, nobody can stop me until I'm welcomed in my home town. Does the last named hap pen to be insyour repertoire? If so, kindly reel it off, as it will help lift the burden from my heart, also my shoul- ders." And the Italian, not Compre- hending the nonsense, but, in common with his race, catching the infectious gaiety of it all smiled deIghtedIy, dis playing; 8 set of pearls that it would be hard to rival
 Finally, tired out, she sat down wearily on the stove. She fondIy i'm agined it was the table, and, as there was no fire in the range, her mistake, fortunately, did not become apparent. But in a little while she arose quickly
 This will never do," she said. T have Q thousand and one things to ac- complish, and I must get to work" So, presently she was in the midst of pack ing again, and her immaculate appear anCe was soon thing of the past
 yHrG hE, TciH la 1111 rang sharply. Tt must be the express man for my rugs" she thought. Well" she called down the speaking tube. Up the tube foated a voice: DO you want to buy tickets for the play given by The Parents Association to be given in Town Hall next Wednes- day night, maam?" it pleaded No; l do nOt,'' answered Mrs. Smith, quick ly. But it's Shakespeare, nla'am,' the plaintive voice went on, as if to clinch the argument.
 Shakespeare by amateurs!" groaned the little lady, inaudibly. Aloud: NO; fear shall have to forego the pleas ure of this ShakeSpCarian revival am too busy to Eo." And as she hustled back to work, she could sense the acute disappointment of the advance agent of the immortal hard.
 More work, more hustle. Avon had been forgotten. also Ann Hathaway. The hell rang again. more sharply than before. 'Ah. my rugs this time, sure ly," thought the little housewife. Again the speaking tube was brought into reausition. This time 9 voice, almost supernatural, breathed. Have good laces, madam. Sell them very cheap. At bargain. Would madam wish rO see?' but madam was past seeing any thing but her monument of work She cut off conversation sharply Would things ever right themselves? She was On the point of becoming discoura eed when she caught herself up, quickly What was the sense of becoming so childish? Other women had gone through this sort of thing before And. as a result of her mercurial tcnpera- mont. she became as optimistic as she had been peSsimistic a moment before.
 "AlI this dtsag agreeabIeness will soon he oyer.' she assured herself and then I know that the sun will shine on me, alone. for a little while. He will forget everybody else, to repay me for