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Ted and Pinky, away at school, began to bring their friends back with them for the vacations Pinky's room had been done over in cream enamel and rose-flowered cretonne. She said the chromos in the hall spoiled the entire second floor.

He's gone his limit. People won't read about his blameless life any more. I knew those interviews he gave out would cook him. They were a last resort. I could have stopped him, but by that time I'd come to the conclusion that I'd let the reformers down. I'm not against a general shaking-up, but the trouble with Pinky's crowd is they never get beyond a general writing-up.

"All right, then I'll forgive you," said Floppy, who was sitting by the fireplace, stringing red, white and blue popcorn for Baby Pinky's rag doll's Christmas tree. "And I'm thinking of the toy steam engine I want," went on Flop Ear. "Oh! why doesn't Christmas hurry up and come?"

Mad! It has got to be stopped. Slavery!" After which she went downstairs and picked golden glow for the living-room vases and scarlet salvia for the bowl in the dining room. Still, as one saw Mrs. Brewster's tired droop at supper that night, there is no denying that there seemed some justification for Pinky's volcanic remarks.

I had everything else, Scraggs, but heirs to my throne. Scraggsy, believe me or not, but if I'd had children I'd have stuck by Pinky. I wouldn't desert my own flesh an' blood, so help me." "Well," Scraggs went on sorrowfully, "Pinky's dead an' so her troubles is over. I heard some years ago she'd passed on with consumption. But them two hapahaole kids o' yourn, Gib. Just think of it.

A giggle need not be inconsistent, with fifty years, especially if one's nose wrinkles up delightfully in the act. But no smile curved the daughter's stern young lips. On the way they paused at the door of Mrs. Brewster's bedroom, so cool, so spacious, all soft grays and blues. Suddenly Pinky's eyes widened with horror.

"You're not goin' to do any such thing." "I'm not drunk, and it's a lie if anybody says so," broke in Pinky. "I tried to keep this devil from beating the life out of poor little Kit, and she pitched into me and tore my clothes off. That's what's the matter." The policeman quietly removed his hand from Pinky's shoulder, and glanced toward the woman named Sal, and stood as if waiting orders.

So the two piggie boys began to sing funny songs under Pinky's window. They sang about the mousie who had a rubber nose, and every time he blew it he bounced on his tiptoes. Then there was another one about a doggie, who could not wag his tail, because he'd fastened on it the monkey's drinking pail.

Ted and Pinky, away at school, began to bring their friends back with them for the vacations. Pinky's room had been done over in cream enamel and rose-flowered cretonne. She said the chromos in the hall spoiled the entire second floor. So the gold frames, glittering undimmed, the cheeks as rosily glowing as ever, found temporary resting place in a nondescript back chamber known as the sewing room.

"Yes, and may I?" asked Curly, as he spun around on his front paws like a top under a Christmas tree. "And if you have any money left, mamma, after getting your bonnet, maybe you will buy us each a hot ice cream soda." "Oh you boys!" cried Mrs. Twistytail with a laugh. "No, I am afraid I can't take you two with me, for it is Baby Pinky's turn.