masculine clothing in the house and burn it! As she looked on coldly, implacably, I crammed shoes, socks, underwear and suits into the furnace and watched them go up in flames. As the flames accelerated with each article added to the fire, it seemed as though I were watching a part of myself go up with them. It was my past that was being burned and, as a searing flare of heat gushed out of the furnace and drove me back from it's intensity, I caught a glimpse of the fluttering of my skimpy skirt as I jumped back. Glancing down at the silkiness of my legs, the frothy swirling of my skirts and the height of my dainty shoes, I thought "There in the furnace, goes my past and here (plucking my skirt) is my future". pity swept over me.

A flood of self-

I was a maid! My duties were manifold and varied. Beginning with the ringing of the alarm clock at 6:00 A.M., I had to follow a set of inexorable rules. At the sound of the alarm, I would jump out of bed and slip a dressing gown on over my nightie, step into a pair of mules and run into the kitchen and put the coffee pot on. As the coffee was brewing, I would take a quick bath or shower; back into the kitchen, and, making breakfast and putting it on a tray, I would remove my nightie and don my "maid's" costume, complete with black dress, dark nylons, black high- heeled shoes, lace apron and bonnet and, carrying the tray up to my "mistress'" room, I would set it dowa, draw the blinds and, as she awoke, put the tray in a position for her to have her breakfast in bed. While she was eating, I would draw her bath and when she was in the tub, help her bathe, help her dress afterward. After she had gone to the office, I would be busy tidying up the house, dusting, cleaning, making the beds and preparing the meals. I would order meats and groceries over the phone and pay the delivery boy for them when he delivered them. In the evening, Constance would return home to a meal I had prepared. Thus, the days passed by and I came to take my position in a