"Nothing but live stuff in this paper, Johnnie dear," spoke up Tavia.
"Mrs. Douglass was bad enough alive--but dead! We really haven't space,"
and, in spite of the real seriousness of the matter, for Mrs. Douglass
was an important woman in Dalton, or had been up to that morning, Ralph
and Dorothy were compelled to laugh at the wit of their friend.

"She was a big woman," said Ralph, adding to the mix-up in language,
"and the Bugle is small. But being 'big' we cannot afford to slight her
memory. There is so little time--"

"I can write that," said Tavia, shaking her head with a meaning. "And I
know all about Mrs. Douglass and her high fence. Also the flowers behind
the boxwood. Here, Doro, give me some of that paper--"

"Oh, you would have to see some of the family," interrupted Ralph. "Find
out how she died, when she will be buried; if she said anything
interesting--about charities, you know--"

"For mine!" sang out Tavia, adjusting her hat.

"Yes, your first assignment," ventured Ralph. "Dorothy must finish the
parade, and I must attend to the typesetting, so if you could,
really,--"

"Of course I can. Haven't I spent more time in the graveyard than at
school? And don't I know what they say about dead persons?

"'Here lies Mrs. Doug,--
She had a mug,