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ply dreaded that horrid tough woman and her rough-neck daughter. I had begged Miss Cora to spare me this but I got no place. I also dreaded to have to face the girl's gym class and my two teachers. These two were about 22 years old and pretty. How they would love my situation! Of course, it was doubtful that the news from the county seat would reach the wash woman, her daughter, the teachers or anyone else in the village before I was "presented" as a surprise.

At the same time as I had these fears and feel- ings of shame to come, I thrilled over my clothing-- the new things I had gotten that day and what I would get tomorrow and other days. I wondered when I would wear them and where. Indeed I was like a debutante when it came to clothes--very like a Miss being train- ed for high society. The rules were strict, the dis- cipline was tough. My whole time night and day was planned and supervised efficiently. Evidently that was the way things were going to be for some time to come and I would just have to make the best of it.

(To Be Concluded Next Issue)

A SHE-MAN

Illustrating something or other, there's the story of the woman who complained to the cemetary manager that she couldn't find her husband's grave.

"What's his name?" the manager asked. "Thomas Brown, she replied.

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Referring to a card index, the manager

said.

"Madam, we have no Thomas Brown. We just have an Elizabeth Brown.

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"That's him," she said. "Everything's in my name."

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