"You see, ma'am," said Ma Bell, "WE don't know who you are no more than nothin',
do we? And we do know how as them big towns is ungodly to beat the band, don't
we? I remember my grandma tellin' me when I was a little girl about the awful
goin's on she heard tell of one time when she was down to Pittsburg, and I
reckon New York must be twice the size of Pittsburg was them days, so it must be
twice as wicked. So we tell you plain, without meanin' no harm, that WE don't
know who you are, nor what you'd do with Susan, once you got her to New York."

"Oh, I now what you want," said Mrs. Smith; "you want references."

"Them's it," said Mrs. Bell, with great relief.

"Well," said Mrs. Smith, "that is easy. I know EVERYBODY in New York."

She thought a moment.

"There's Mr. Murray, of MURRAY'S MAGAZINE," she suggested, mentioning her friend
of the great monthly magazine.

"Guess we never heard of that," said Mrs. Bell doubtfully.

"Then do you know the AEON MAGAZINE? I know the editor of AEON."

The neighbors and Mrs. Bell looked at each other blankly, and shook their heads.

Mrs. Smith named ALL the magazines. She had contributed stories to most of
them, but not one was known, even by name, to her inquisitors. One shy old lady
asked faintly if she had ever heard of Mr. Tweed. She thought she had heard of a
Mister Tweed of New York, once.