CUPID GOES SLUMMING

THE SOUL OF O SANA SAN




MISS MINK'S SOLDIER


Miss Mink sat in church with lips compressed and hands tightly clasped
in her black alpaca lap, and stubbornly refused to comply with the
request that was being made from the pulpit. She was a small desiccated
person, with a sharp chin and a sharper nose, and narrow faded eyes that
through the making of innumerable buttonholes had come to resemble them.

For over forty years she had sat in that same pew facing that same
minister, regarding him second only to his Maker, and striving in
thought and deed to follow his precepts. But the time had come when Miss
Mink's blind allegiance wavered.

Ever since the establishment of the big Cantonment near the city, Dr.
Morris, in order to encourage church attendance, had been insistent in
his request that every member of his congregation should take a soldier
home to Sunday dinner.

Now it was no lack of patriotism that made Miss Mink refuse to do her
part. Every ripple in the small flag that fluttered over her humble
dwelling sent a corresponding ripple along her spinal column. When she