Description

Mr. David? I nodded, pointing into the coals. I see a lion, and an old witch, and a monkey. I dont see any woman. There! Therer I cried She sjust going through the postern gate. Oh, shes gone, ladl Never mindt Next time you may see her. And is she prettier n Wanza, Mr. David? Perhaps not prettier, I resi onded. Wanza looking out from beneath the pink-lined umbrella on her peddlers cart is viery charming, indeed. But the woman I see in the fire is oh, shes altogether difl FerentI This was the customary tenor of my conversation with Joey as we sat before our fire of pine knots of an evening.