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AVE you ever known days that were H black? Have you ever known days in which everything went wrong, as though some invisible hand turned your whole life topsy-turvy? Did you ever get up in the morning after the manner which the juveniles style "wrong side foremost"? Did you stub your toes with the first_ step you took? Did your strings tangle themselves into Gordian knots, your buttons fly off like rockets, your hooks mysteriously vanish, just when you were in the greatest hurry? Did glass and china break spontaneously beneath your most careful touch? Did the dress you fancied short, magically lengthen itself to make you stumble? Did every sharp instrument you handled, pierce or cut you, of its own accord? Did some undiscoverable individual throw your neatly-arranged work into confusion, and abstract the book in which you were deeply interested? Did the pen spatter, and scratch, and obstinately blot the paper, when you attempted to write? Did the current of your thoughts, which usually flowed with pleasant free-