lurid cushion-covers, or "tidies" representing Indian maidens or
chieftains in full war paint, or clusters of poppies of great
boldness of hue. They had either been Christmas gifts bestowed upon
Mrs. Bowse or department-store bargains of her own selection,
purchased with thrifty intent. The red-and-green plush upholstered
walnut chairs arid sofa had been acquired by her when the bankruptcy
of a neighboring boarding-house brought them within her means. They
were no longer very red or very green, and the cheerfully hopeful
design of the tidies and cushions had been to conceal worn places and
stains. The mantelpiece was adorned by a black-walnut-and-gold-framed
mirror, and innumerable vases of the ornate ninety-eight-cents order.
The centerpiece held a large and extremely soiled spray of artificial
wistaria. The end of the room was rendered attractive by a tent-like
cozy-corner built of savage weapons and Oriental cotton stuffs long
ago become stringy and almost leprous in hue. The proprietor of the
bankrupt boarding-house had been "artistic." But Mrs. Bowse was a
good-enough soul whose boarders liked her and her house, and when the
gas was lighted and some one played "rag-time" on the second-hand
pianola, they liked the parlor.

Little Ann did not often appear in it, but now and then she came down
with her bit of sewing,--she always had a "bit of sewing,"--and she
sat in the cozy-corner listening to the talk or letting some one
confide troubles to her. Sometimes it was the New England widow, Mrs.
Peck, who looked like a spinster school-ma'am, but who had a married
son with a nice wife who lived in Harlem and drank heavily. She used
to consult with Little Ann as to the possible wisdom of putting a
drink deterrent privately in his tea. Sometimes it was Mr. Jakes, a
depressed little man whose wife had left him, for no special reason
he could discover. Oftenest perhaps it was Julius Steinberger or Jim