The Waterbury Democrat., 1932-02-09
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had the word Hove" in their title, excluding only those that seemed to deal with religion or nature study. Rosalie's mind liked going the easy, anthological ways, and she frequently confessed that, though aware of her folly, she could read better with a pencil in her fingers; so the small bamboo stand behind her door ("My own intimate collection - my dearest friends. One should have them close at hand; don't you agree with me?'') was richly fertile with ready reference material for Mary Frances.
 The Englishwoman's Love Let ters, however, had not been found in Rosalie's room. Their thin vol tune had been squeezed crooked between West Coast Shells and An Epitome of Modern European Lit erature I883), in the library downstairs. 1t was filled with pressed, powdery four-leaf clovers, which were nuisance. In the front of 1t was a bookplate, un- decorated, which read, This book Is the property of A. N. Monks, and must be returned to him with out fail" In the back of it, rub Der stamped. were the purple words, This Book is the property of the Cozy Nook Circulating Li- brary, Vending, Utah." Another of those black-sheep volumes that are fated to stray and get lost on the most moral, dignified and law abiding bookshelves. Poor little thing, it all groaned its tragedy as eh ha ol infn its place.
 Ermintrude, who had been waiting during the long process of the latters construction, said Well, if you're through at last. let's go. Let's don't waste the whole afternoon"
 "Waste!" sighed Mary-Frances. "Waste!" reproached Mary-Fran- ces, and followed Ermintrude out of the sour, dark old library into the warm, fragrant bouquet of June.
 On the front porch Ermintrude paused to say again--she had said it several times before-1 just don't see any sense in it.
 Mary-Frances crooked her arm around Ermintrude's plump waist. Come on, darling. I'll walk as Tar as the fire house with you"
 "No but what I mean explained Ermintrude, as she allowed herself to be led along, "is that if you're going as far as the fire house. don't see why you cant go on the rest of the way and call on him yourself and tell him yourself about Mr Carmichael and all, instead of me calling on him and giving him q letter.
 "All I can say to that" deplored Mary Frances, lis that if you don't just naturally understand a thing like this, Ermintrude, just natur- ally understand it, it wouldn't be any use in the world for me to try to explain it to you. I'd do as much for you, any time. And, anyway, I don't think it is such an awful lot to do, considering that I'm right in the midst of life tragedy and everything"
 Mary Frances" said Ermin- trude, "are you positively certain that you flunked algebra this morning."
 "Thats' about the hundredth time you've asked me. Whats the use of talking about 1t all the tune
 "You don't even care, do you, that we won't get our ponies to ride in camp nor anything:
 "I do too care. But l think your father will get yours anyway. It wouldn't be right not to get yours just because I flunked."
 "The trouble with daddy" sighed Ermintrude, "is that he always does just exactly what he says he will, and he never does what he says he won't. He said if we both passed in everything he'd get us both ponies to ride. And if we had. he'd of got the ponies If ned nad to go to Pendleton or some place and steal 'em. But since you flunked, he won't. and that's all there is to it. I guess l know my own father better than you do.
 (To be COntinucd)