8 WEBER LITERARY JOURNAL The first notes of the second selection came like a clap of thunder, and the result was that John Alexander sat up stiffly and looked about him. Then he began commenting on items which were within the radius of his sight, such as clothes, hair, jewelry, furniture, draperies, pictures, faces, etc. As his eyes wandered from one to another, they finally came to an abrupt stop at a queer-looking, dark-haired gentleman, who was shifting uneasily in his seat, looking around nervously, and who finally succeeded in catching the eye of Mrs. Van Doon. Then a most unexpected tiling happened, the beautiful hostess smiled on this crooked-looking man, and gave him an affirmative nod. Soon after, the crook (according to John Alexander) slipped thru the doorway and out into the reception hall. By this time John Alexander was sure of a game between Mrs. Van Doon and the person who just left the room. Just at this moment, John Alexander recollected he "must communicate with a friend by telephone," so he most calmly excused himself from his wife's side, and walked leisurely out into the reception hall, just in time to see the disappearing foot of the man who had aroused his curiosity to this point. He bounded up the steps with youthful enthusiasm, hardly disturbing the silken fibers of the carpet. Just as he reached the top, the door of the cloak-room closed, silently. He must get into that room, at least to see what this sneaking society crook was up to. This would not be such a bad night after all, if he could deliver to the police a notable thief. Perhaps he was one of the "gang" that had so infested every circle in the town. Perhaps he had many such affairs credited to his name. But this was not a time for John Alexander to let his mind wander, so he set to work to capture his prey. The door of the next room opened, also a window thru which he made his way to a wide, decorative ledge and thence to the window of the fateful room. First he listened cautiously, then peered expectantly at the figure in the room. He fell back, limp, with a start which almost caused him to lose his balance and fall head over heels to the ground beneath. So quickly did he scramble back into the room and down stairs, that within two minutes, John Alexander was sitting at his wife's side, ap- WEBER LITERARY JOURNAL 9 parently listening to society's endless confab, but in reality, inwardly cursing himself and every one else. In the midst of these reflections he was interrupted by the entrance of George Washington, himself, gorgeously decked in colonial finery, from his snow-white hair to the glistening buckles of his pumps. With a stately, dignified step, he crossed the room to the hostess, and, after greeting her, passed from one to another, likewise greeting them and giving them a favor suggestive red hatchets. When he had finished this queer ceremony, he stepped to the end of the room, and, in full view of all, removed the powdered wig, revealing the black, shining hair of John Alexander Pinkham's Society Crook! Youth By Barbara. Youth stood upon the mountainside, And viewed the country far and wide The warm breeze blew her golden hair; She deeply breathed of God's blue air And smiled. Youth stooped low in sordid places; Shrank from black, distorted faces; She had tasted war and strife Had drunk the very dregs of life And Smiled.