ions, they ruefully complained that their earnings all went on mow clothes, shoes and stockings, and any new male mufti was out of the question.

Matches, powder and lipstick were packed away in a vanity bag hanging behind the organ and they moved off down the street, the two "girls" tripping along together, making a graceful picture as the wind caught their full skirts and the sun shone on the satin- like material.

Their general bearing was happy and carefree and the fact that their life must be an almost unbroken round of applied femininity seemed not to weigh them a scrap. Well, good luck to them! They spoofed me completely and I shall never say again that I can always spot a boy dressed as a girl.

What with this incident, and I see Barbette imitating Dietrich, I would not be surprised if Greta Garbe herself was actually a cheeky Swedish boy in private life.

Dear Sir:

Yours faithfully, A.K.B.

My father and uncle were killed at almost the beginning of the war, only just before I was born. My mother determined that I should never be exposed to the same risk and although born a boy, I have been raised as a girl from birth.

I have never worn male clothing and have always lived 18 a girl. By means of constant message, figure training and general attention, my figure is entirely feminine--so much so that were I to dress in men's clothes, I should still look like a girl.

I have always worn high heels and like tight lacing, but not to exaggeration. I do not put my name for obvious reasons. The only people who share my secret are my old nurse (now my maid) and a girl cousin.

Dear Sir:

Yours truly,

Margaret

I believe that your sporty readers on the lookout for smart ideas will be interested in this account of twin costumes I de- signed for my husband and myself to wear to a recent masquerade ball, they were sufficiently striking to carry off first prize in the doubles entry and so exactly alike did we appear that some amus-