Nathan gazed at Joe like a lost soul.
"But I think, Mr. Joe," he said, slowly, "you place your hopes too high. I don't like to be too gloomy, Mr. Joe, but I have my doubts about a rush."
"Slate," cried Joe, slapping the tragic bookkeeper a whack, "you're inspiring!"
And he swung out to the street in the brilliant morning sunshine, ready to begin his canvass.
"Next door," he mused, "is the place to start."
There was a woman sitting on the stoop, a two-year-old girl in her arms. Joe paused and looked at the baby.
"Hello, you."
The baby looked at him a little doubtfully, and then laughed.
"Girl or boy?" asked Joe of the mother.
"Girl."