with all my daily amusement. No piece of mischief has been
launched in this institution for the last eight years that did
not originate in her abnormal brain. This young person has, to
me, a most unusual history, though I understand it's common
enough in foundling circles. She was discovered eleven years ago
on the bottom step of a Thirty-ninth Street house, asleep in a
pasteboard box labeled, "Altman & Co."

"Sadie Kate Kilcoyne, aged five weeks. Be kind to her," was
neatly printed on the cover.

The policeman who picked her up took her to Bellevue where
the foundlings are pronounced, in the order of their arrival,
"Catholic, Protestant, Catholic, Protestant," with perfect
impartiality. Our Sadie Kate, despite her name and blue Irish
eyes, was made a Protestant. And here she is growing Irisher and
Irisher every day, but, true to her christening, protesting
loudly against every detail of life.

Her two little black braids point in opposite directions; her
little monkey face is all screwed up with mischief; she is as
active as a terrier, and you have to keep her busy every moment.
Her record of badnesses occupies pages in the Doomsday Book. The
last item reads:

"For stumping Maggie Geer to get a doorknob into her mouth--
punishment, the afternoon spent in bed, and crackers for supper."

It seems that Maggie Geer, fitted with a mouth of unusual
stretching capacity, got the doorknob in, but couldn't get it