Pour.

The Organization seemed to be a Winner. One Thing the Lady Clubbers were
Dead Set On. They were going to have Harmony with an Upper Case H. They
were out to cut a seven-foot Swath through English Literature from
Beowulf to Bangs, inclusive, and no petty Jealousies or Bickerings would
stand in the Way.

So while they were at the Club they would pull Kittenish Smiles at each
other, and Applaud so as not to split the Gloves. Some times they would
Kiss, too, but they always kept their Fingers crossed.

Of course, when they got off in Twos and Threes they would pull the
little Meat-Axes out of the Reticules and hack a few Monograms, but that
was to have been expected.

[Illustration: WYCLIF]

Everything considered, the Club was a Tremendous Go. At each Session the
Lady President would announce the Subject for the next Meeting. For
instance, she would say that Next Week they would take up Wyclif. Then
every one would romp home to look in the Encyclopedia of Authors and
find out who in the world Wyclif was. On the following Thursday they
would have Wyclif down Pat, and be primed for a Discussion. They would
talk about Wyclif as if he had been down to the House for Tea every
evening that Week.

After the Club had been running for Six Months it was beginning to be
Strong on Quotations and Dates. The Members knew that Mrs. Browning was
the wife of Mr. Browning, that Milton had Trouble with his Eyes, and