"Of course."
"Then some one has 'chucked' it into the next yard, and the janitor will have to climb the fence,—at his age! Oh, if I could eliminate the irregular verb 'to chuck' from the vocabulary of this school, I could 'make out of the broken sounds of life a song, and out of life itself a melody,'" and she flew down-stairs like a breeze, to find the patient Mr. Bowker. Mr. Bowker was a nice little man, who had not all his wits about him, but whose heart was quite intact, and who swept with energy and washed windows with assiduity. He belonged to the Salvation Army, and the most striking articles of his attire, when sweeping, were a flame-colored flannel shirt and a shiny black hat with "Prepare to Meet Thy God" on the front in large silver letters. The combination of color was indescribably pictorial, and as lurid and suggestive as an old-fashioned Orthodox sermon.
As I went through the lower hall, I found Mr. Bowker assisting Helen to search the coal-bin. "Don't smile," she cried. "Punch says, 'Sometimes the least likeliest place is more likelier than the most likeliest,'—and sure enough, here is the hat! I should have been named Deborah or Miriam,—not Helen!" and she hurried to dry the tears of the weeping Jacob.
CHAPTER V.
I SEEK PATSY, AND MEET THE DUCHESS OF ANNA STREET.
"'Tis pride, rank pride and haughtiness of soul."
