We have seen great and sober-minded men come to this unholy city, and become degenerates. “Do you play an instrument?” “I play the fiddle sometimes. ToC Mrs. ’ ‘You traitor, Gerald,’ laughed Lucilla, her yellow curls bouncing under a huge straw bonnet all over flowers. ’ So pat, thought Gerald. Will you please—Not now, or I must go. '" "An ingenious device," laughed Gay. Get it off your soul. There is turmoil, shouts, cries, jostlings, milling congestions that suddenly break and flow in opposite directions.
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