Manchurian Books

"The way of the Transgresser is hard"--Bible.
I come now to the momentous day of my return to my dear
home for Christmas. Father and my sister Leila, who from now on
I will term "Sis," met me at the station. Sis was very elegantly
dressed, and she said:
"Hello, Kid," and turned her cheek for me to kiss.
She is, as I have stated, but 2O months older than I, and
depends altogether on her clothes for her beauty. In the morning
she is plain, although having a good skin. She was trimmed up
with a bouquet of violets as large as a dishpan, and she covered
them with her hands when I kissed her.
She was waved and powdered, and she had on a perfectly new
Outfit. And I was shabby. That is the exact word. Shabby. If you
have to hang your entire Wardrobe in a closet ten inches deep,
and put it over you on cold nights, with the steam heat shut off
at ten o'clock, it does not make it look any better.
My father has always been my favorite member of the family,
and he was very glad to see me. He has a great deal of tact,
also, and later on he slipped ten dollars in my purse in the
motor.


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