Ades Fables | Page 5

the ever onward Parade, she juggled the Baton at the
head of the Push.
In the crisp introductory hours of the Wash-Day already woven into the
Plot, Loretta trolleyed herself down into the Noise Belt.
She went to the office of the exclusive Kennel Club and entered the
Chow Ki-Yi for the next Bench Show. At the Clearing House for K.
M.'s she filed a loud call for a Cook who could cook. Then she cashed a
check, ordered a pound of Salted Nuts (to be delivered by Special
Wagon at once), enveloped a ball of Ice Cream gooed with Chocolate,
and soon, greatly refreshed, swept down upon a Department Store.
A Chenille Massacre was in full swing on the 3d floor, just between the
Porch Furniture and Special Clothing for Airmen. Loretta took a run
and jump into the heaving mass of the gentler Division. She came out
at 10.53 with her Sky Piece badly listed to Port and her toes flattened
out, but she was 17 cents to the Good. Three hearty Cheers!
So she went over to an exhibition of Paintings, breathing through her
Nose for at least an Hour as she studied the new Masterpieces of the
Swedo-Scandinavian School. Each looked as if executed with a Squirt
Gun by a Nervous Geek on his way to a Three Days Cure. Just the
same, every Visitor with a clinging Skirt and a Mushroom Hat gurgled
like a Mountain Stream.
In company with four other Seraphines, plucked from the Society Col.,

she toyed with a Fruit Salad and Cocoa at a Tea Room instituted by a
Lady in Reduced Circumstances for the accommodation of those who
are never overtaken by Hunger.
The usual Battle as to which should pick up the Check and the same old
Compromise. A Dutch Treat with the Waitress trying to spread it four
ways and the Auditing Committee watching her like a Hawk. Then a
10- cent Tip, bestowed as if endowing Princeton, and the Quartet
representing the Flower of America's Young Womanhood was once
more out in the Ozone, marching abreast with shining Faces and
pushing white- haired Business Men off into the Sweepings.
Loretta went to a place with a glass Cover on it and had herself photoed
in many a striking Posture. With the Chin tilted to show the full crop of
Cervical Vertebrae and her Search Lights aimed yearningly at the top
of the Singer Building, she had herself kidded into believing that she
was a certified Replica of Elsie Ferguson.
As a member of the Board of Visitation she hurried out to the Colored
Orphan Asylum to check up the Picks and watch them making
Card-Board Mottoes.
After that she had nothing to do except fly home and complete a Paper
on the Social Unrest in Spain, after which she backed into the Spangles,
because Father was bringing an old Stable Companion to dinner.
In the evening she took Mother to a Travel Lecture. The colored Slides
were mingled with St. Vitus Glimpses of swarming Streets and
galloping Gee-Gees. They came home google-eyed and had to feel their
way into the Domicile.
Tuesday A. M. dawned overcast with shifting winds from the N. E..
Loretta pried herself away from the third Waffle in order to hike to the
corner and jack up Mr. Grocer about the Kindling Wood that he had
sent them for Celery.
She had the Druggist 'phone the Florist, and then rewarded him by
purchasing three Stamps.

At 9.30 the Committee to arrange for the Summer Camp of the
In-Wrong Married Women whirled through the untidy Suburbs in a
next year's Motor Car, and Loretta was nowhere except right up on the
front Seat picking out the Road.
Once a year the Ladies of the Lumty-Tum went out with their
embroidered Sand-Bags and swung on their Gentlemen Friends for
enough Dough to pay the Vacation Expenses of Neglected Wives and
Kiddies.
In every community there is an undiscovered Triton thoroughly posted
on the Renaissance of the Reactionaries and the recrudescence of the
Big Six Baby with the up-twist that has the Whiskers on it. This Boy is
so busy regulating both Parties and both Leagues that when it comes
time for his Brood to take an Outing, some ignorant Outsider has to
step in and unbelt.
After letting contracts for Milk and Vegetables, Loretta and the other
specimens of our Best People zipped over to the Country Club,
breaking into silvery Laughter every time the Speedometer made a
Face at the Sign-Board which said that the Speed Limit was 12 Miles
an Hour.
They showed a few milk-fed Springers how to take a Joke, and then
played an 18-hole Foursome which was more or less of a Grewsome.
Then a little Tea on the Terrace with Herbert