orderly and parliamentary way. And I--"

"Oh, Mrs. Shelby, is it--is it smallpox?" and as Sallie spoke she hugged
up the Puppy baby, who happened to be the twin in her arms, so that she
bubbled and giggled, mistaking her embraces for those of frolicsome
affection.

Mamie turned pale and held her baby tight and I could see that she was
having light spasms of alarm, one for each one of the children and one
for Ned.

"Smallpox, fiddlesticks--I said disgrace, Sallie Carruthers, and the
worst kind of disgrace--municipal disgrace." And as Aunt Augusta named
the plague that was to come upon us, she looked as if she expected it to
wilt us all into sear and dried leaves. And in point of fact, we all did
rustle.

"Tell us about it," said Nell, with sparkling eyes and sitting up in her
low rocker as straight as Aunt Augusta did in her uncompromising seat.
The rest of them just looked helpless and undecided as to whether to be
relieved or not.

"Yes, municipal disgrace threatens the town, and the women must rise in
their strength and avert it," she declaimed majestically with her dark
eyes snapping.

"Yesterday afternoon James Hardin, who is the only patriotic male in
Glendale, put before the Town Council a most reasonable and
pride-bestirring proposition originated by Evelina Shelby, one of
Glendale's leading citizens, though a woman. She wants to offer the