she is, brought to life about five generations from now, would cause a
sensation.

Some women are so feminine that they are sticky, unless well spiced with
deviltry. Sallie's loveliness hasn't much seasoning. Still, I do love
her dearly, and I am just as much her slave as are any of the others. I
can't get out of it.

"Do you suppose we will ever get all of the clothes done for the twins?"
Nell sighed gently as we sat on my porch whipping yards of lace upon
white ruffles and whipping up our own spirits at the same time.
Everybody in Glendale sews for Sallie's children and it takes her all
her time to think up the clothes.

"Never," I answered.

"She's coming, and I do believe she has got more of this ruffling. I see
it floating down her skirt," Nell fairly groaned.

Nell ought to like to sew. She isn't emancipated enough to hate a needle
as I do. But the leaven is working and she's rising slowly. It might be
well for some man to work the dough down a little before she runs over
the pan. That's a primitively feminine wish and not at all in accordance
with my own advanced ideas.

I was becoming slightly snarled with my thread, and I was glad when
Sallie and her sweetness seated itself in the best rocker in the softest
breeze, which Nell had vacated for her.

"Children are the greatest happiness in life and also the greatest