In a mood for companionship with none at hand, a New Yorker was making
her way through a quiet down town cross street to an East Side subway.
As she approached a team of horses standing by the curb, the nearer
of the pair looked her straight in the eye man-to-man like. No driver
being in sight she took from her pocket some lumps of sugar (reserved
as a tip for the ice-horse) and fed and fondled and talked foolishly
to her friend of the curb. Looking up before turning to the second
horse, she was confused and startled to find a brisk young driver,
reins in hand, looking ready to tear up the pavements in a mad rush
to Jersey or somewhere. She hurried off to escape his wrath at being
delayed. The angry words flung after her were: "The other one ain't no
stepchild."

And the horses galloped off equally sugared.




ETIQUET


"Frances," said the little girl's mamma, who was entertaining callers
in the parlor, "you came downstairs so noisily that you could be heard
all over the house. Now go back and come down stairs like a lady."

Frances retired and after a few moments re-entered the parlor.

"Did you hear me come downstairs this time, mamma?"