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bundle it into a bathing-cap, for I must see about this dress.

There, if

you lay the pattern on that way, you can get it out. Why, if here isn't my blessed little Fido dogsy-wogsy! Well, who was a cunnin'? Yes, in deed, indeedy! So he wuzzy! Look at him sit up, Miss Bodkin. Isn't he the ducky-dear? Oh, yes, about the dress. Well, if there really isn't enough goods, let's use it as far as it goes, and piece out with a hem of Lots of people do that. satin. Wow! My cap leaks, and the water is just streaming down my shoul ders! I simply must dry my hair now, so you must cut out that goods whatever way you think best. Of course I expect you to have some ideas of your own. Jumpy downy, Fido-dido. Yes, um wuz um cunnin'. Oh, I forgot, I want you to fix over a gown the very first thing of all, so I can wear it this afternoon to a

bridge party.

It doesn’t need much

done to it.

Yes, a bridge at Mrs. Smart's. She always gives afternoon affairs because she hasn't a very becoming husband.

He's—well, he's sort of

hand-painted—if you know what I mean.

Now, Mrs. Lovell, she al

ways gives evening parties, because her husband is a very tasty-looking person. He dresses up the atmos phere tremendously. When I marry, I shall look out first for a man who is an artistic decoration in the home. We're

learning that in our domestic science class.

I mean, about harmonious

house-furnishing, and if a husband

isn't the principal thing to be made

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nothing so hopeless as a lace bolero! But this gown isn't so very old, and I want you to fix it up some way. I'll try it on, and then you can tell better. Don't you adore these little

dingly-dangly rosebuds just dripping off the berthé? Yes, I suppose they are last year's style, but Mrs. Smart won't know that. She's the kind of a woman who would wear a black

grenadine—if you know what I 111Call.

Oh, wait, you're not hooking it right! The inner lining hooks first over across onto that under belt

thing.

Then bring that left side

panel over across back again the other way, and then hook that—but

the trimming hooks under it first, and then the bow laps over, don't you See? No, not that way. Oh, it twists my neck off to look in the mirror be hind me—but we must get it right. I wish I had a neck like a hen, don't you know how they spin around? Well, you'll have to unhook it all and begin again. If you don't start right, you'll never get it—and I expect you omitted those little snap things. They have to be done first of all. Yes, I know it's too tight, that's what I want you to fix about it, but I won't pant another mouthful, if I have to have my hips planed off. Do you know, when I first heard about all this fuss over Waste Mo

tion, I thought they meant some kind of physical culture exercises or

Swedish movements or something to reduce!

Now I'll take a long breath and squeeze myself in. There! Didn't you hook it that time? No? Well,

to harmonize with the other furnish

I don’t believe we can, then '

ings, I don’t know what is. Perhaps one of those long, slap-dash bows— they do add an air—or, I have a lace bolero. No? Well, when I bought that thing, I felt sure I’d never use

see how people keep so thin—there's Mrs. Smart, she's simply nothing but a spine. Oh, there's the telephone!

it!

I’ve tried it with three dress

makers in the house. I guess there's

Yes.

Hay-o!

Featherton.

Yes.

Hats?

I don't

Oh, Miss

Now?

indeed; send them right up.

Yes,