“He was playing with some bright shells”
While Rollo, a very excited little boy you may be sure, was putting on his blue round-about and his white collar, his mother explained to him that, since they were going to the City to live for a while, they would be expected at certain times to go out in Society.
“What is Society, Mother?” asked Rollo. Rollo’s mother was silent for a while before she replied. “That is a difficult question to answer, Rollo, but I will try to explain. You know that here at home you see a few people very often whom you know very well. You play every day with your cousin Lucy and your cousin James, and Jonas instructs you in piling wood and digging potatoes. But that is not Society. In a great city like New York you will occasionally see a great many people whom you hardly know at all. That is Society.”
“And will I not be instructed in digging potatoes?”
“No,” said his mother, “I think not.”
“Oh goody! goody!” cried Rollo,—“I am sure I shall like it. But why do we go to the photographer’s studio?”
“That is my idea,” said his mother. “You may not realize it, but we go to the city and will meet a number of strangers.”