houses. No man drove, walked, or talked with his own wife; nevertheless,
these affairs though rowdy, noisy, and "fast" enough, were essentially
harmless. The respectable members of the community were sufficiently
shocked, however. Gay dresses, gay laughter, gay behaviour, gay scorn of
convention, above all, the resort to the mysterious naughty road houses
were enough. It must be confessed that at times things seemed to go a bit
far; but Nan, who was at first bewildered and shocked, noticed that the
women did many things in public and nothing in private. As already her mind
and tolerance were adapting themselves to new things, she was able to
accept it all philosophically as part of a new phase of life.

These people had no misgivings about themselves, and they passed judgment
on others with entire assurance. In their slang all with whom they came
into contact were either "hearses" or "live Mollies." There was nothing
racial, local, or social in this division. A family might be divided, one
member being a live Molly, and all the rest the most dismal of hearses.
Occasionally a stranger might be brought along. He did not know it, but
always he was very carefully watched and appraised: his status discussed
and decided at the supper to which the same people--minus all strangers--
gathered later. At one of these discussions a third estate came into being.

Teeny McFarlane had that day brought with her a young man of about twenty-
four or twenty-five, well dressed, of pleasant features, agreeable in
manner, well spoken, but quiet.

"He isn't a live Molly," stated Sally positively.

"Well, Sally took a walk with him," observed Sam Brannan dryly; "she ought
to know!"