"_Roumania_, mamma."

Mr. Shapiro sat suddenly forward in his chair, his eager face thrust
forward. "Say, I'm your man!"

"You!"

"Before you get your reservations let me steer you. I got a cousin works
down at the White Flag offices--Harry Mansbach. He'll fix you up if
there ain't a room left on the boat. He's the greatest little fixer you
ever seen."

"Ach, Mr. Shapiro, how grand! To-morrow, Miriam, maybe when you get the
berths--"

"State-rooms, mamma."

"State-rooms, maybe Mr. Shapiro will--will go mit."

"Aw, mamma, he--"

"Will I! Well, I guess!"

Across the table their eyes met and held.

* * * * *

Even into the granite cañon of lower Broadway spring can find a way.
In the fifty-first story of the latest triumph in skyscraping a