something good inside, crawl up to the top and then over and in - and
then can't get out - but just buzz and buzz and buzz - and make a lot of
fuss about it - bluebottles and all - no respecter of persons - and when
it gets full of the quick and dead in flydom, Bridget takes it out in
the back yard and dumps it. Very simple . . . clean, peaceful,
effective.

My, My! But it's a far cry back to those days, isn't it? And wouldn't
you like right this minute to sneak into the cool, curtain-down,
ever-so-quiet dining-room again . . . and nose around to see if anything
edible bad been overlooked - and see one of those dear old round
fly-screens guarding the sugar!



The Autumn Leaves



There were three recognized uses for leaves in the Autumn - first, to be
banked by the wind along fences or sidewalk edges and provide
kicking-ground for exuberant youngsters returning home from school;
second, to be packed around the foundations of the house as a measure
for interior comfort in winter; and, third, to be pressed between the
pages of the big Bible and kept for ornamental purposes until they
crumbled and had to be thrown away. This last-named use was always
questioned by every red-blooded boy, and more tolerated than accepted -
a concession to the women of earth, from little sister with her
bright-hued wreath to mother and grandmother with their book of pressed
leaves.