"Now, that is after my own heart," she cried, "fashionable dresses are
they, and hair done up in style. Mavourneen! mavourneen! you will have
to wear a fringe!"

Kitty burst into peals of laughter.

"Oh, Bessie," she said, "I have just been longing to attack that head of
yours. I'll bring my little tongs along, and I'll curl up such a lovely
fringe on your great intellectual forehead."

"You'll do nothing of the kind," said Bessie, clasping her hands over
her head to protect her thick, long hair.

"But you must, mavourneen, you must if you join the Tug-of-war Society.
Oh, it's beautiful you'll look! And I tell you what it is, Bessie, I'll
lend you the patterns of my new sleeves--those that are all crinkled
from above the elbow down to the wrist, and puffed ever so much at the
top, with little tucks, and little insertions, and little--"

"Kitty, I won't listen to you for another moment. I shall try to dress
as neatly as I can, and perhaps I must twist my hair into a more stylish
coil at the back of my head, but beyond that I absolutely refuse to go."

"Well, it's a delicious rule," said Kitty Malone, "and I hope I'll work
you round after a bit, Bessie. It seems but fair that if I yield to you
with regard to the other rules you ought to yield to me about Rule IV. I
am sure if I do take the prize from poor little Agnes Moore, and if I
never speak a word of slang, and if I keep my abominable drawers as neat
as a new pin, and all my clothes in perfect order, that you on your part