daughter's "extras," uttered a fervent assent.

"You bet you!" he said. "It costs enough where Rena is, without sendin'
her to no more expensive place."

This was not exactly the reply his wife had expected.

"Umph!" she grunted, impatiently. "I do wish you could get along for
two minutes without puttin' on poor mouth. I suppose likely you tell
everybody that you can't afford a new overcoat account of Rena's goin'
away to school. You'd ought to be prouder of your daughter than you are
of an overcoat, I should think."

Mr. Mullet muttered something to the effect that he was dum sure he was
not proud of his present overcoat. His wife ignored the complaint.

"And you'll be proud of Irene when she comes home," she declared. "She
won't be like that Mary-'Gusta, standin' up behind the counter and
sellin' goods."

"Why, now, Becky, what's the matter with her doin' that? She always used
to sell goods, and behind that very counter, too. And she certainly can
SELL 'em!" with a reminiscent chuckle.

Mrs. Mullet glared at him. "Yes," she drawled, with sarcasm, "so she
can--to some folks. Look at you, with all that Christmas junk under your
arm! You didn't need to buy that stuff any more'n you needed to fly.
What did you buy it for? Tell me that."

Chris shook his head. "Blessed if I know," he admitted. "I hadn't any