be a delicate attention to consult him about its adoption. She
argued stubbornly that it was none of his business, seeing that
the onerous work of washing and dressing and training would fall
upon her. I am really beginning to feel sorry for men. Some of
them seem to have very few rights.

Even our pugnacious doctor I suspect of being a victim of
domestic tyranny, and his housekeeper's at that. It is
scandalous the way Maggie McGurk neglects the poor man. I have
had to put him in charge of an orphan. Sadie Kate, with a very
housewifely air, is this moment sitting cross-legged on the
hearth rug sewing buttons on his overcoat while he is upstairs
tending babies.

You would never believe it, but Sandy and I are growing quite
confidential in a dour Scotch fashion. It has become his habit,
when homeward bound after his professional calls, to chug up to
our door about four in the afternoon, and make the rounds of the
house to make sure that we are not developing cholera morbus or
infanticide or anything catching, and then present himself at
four-thirty at my library door to talk over our mutual problems.

Does he come to see me? Oh, no, indeed; he comes to get tea
and toast and marmalade. The man hath a lean and hungry look.
His housekeeper doesn't feed him enough. As soon as I get
the upper hand of him a little more, I am going to urge him on to
revolt.

Meanwhile he is very grateful for something to eat, but oh,
so funny in his attempts at social grace! At first he would hold