Page:Harper's New Monthly Magazine - v109.djvu/707

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ITTLE Alicia, aged five, who has occasionally witnessed a quiet family game, electrified the minister's family, while lunching there the other day, by innocently remarking, as she indicated the sliced beets with a tiny forefinger,

"I will take a stack of those reds, if you please."

HE head of the house had telephoned that he would bring home a guest to luncheon—and a guest whom his wife realized that he would delight to honor. Preparations were made accordingly, with results satisfactory to her hospitable and housewifely heart. Unfortunately, six-year-old Dorothy came in a trifle late. Sweeping the table with one all-embracing glance, "Hum!" she queried, audibly, as she climbed into her chair. "Is this lunch?"

"Why, of course it's luncheon, Dorothy," her mother hastily intervened, with a repressive gesture.

But Dorothy was not to be stayed. "Well," she returned, incredulously, "maybe it is, but it looks exactly like Sunday dinner!"