Peeps at People / Being Certain Papers from the Writings of Anne Warrington Witherup

by John Kendrick Bangs

"Your name?" said one, who appeared to be their leader.

"'SAVE ME!' SHE CRIED"

"Anne Warrington Witherup, if you refer to me," said I, drawing myself up proudly. "If you refer to this lady," I added, "she is Mrs. Watkins Wilbur Witherup, my—ah—my step-mother. We are Americans, and I am a lady journalist."

Fortunately my remarks were made in French, and my French was of a kind which was convincing proof that I came from Westchester County.

A great change came over the intruders.

"Pardon, mademoiselle," said the leader, with an apologetic bow to myself. "We have made the grand faux pas. We have entered the wrong box."

"And may I know the cause of your unwarranted intrusion," I demanded, "without referring the question to the State Department at home?"

"We sought—we sought an enemy to France, mademoiselle," said they. "We thought he entered here."