I must tell you one thing more about our pet, and then I think you
will credit me with four letters of common length.
You know we have always wondered that Ethel should remember so much
about her nurse Bridget, who died a year ago. She always seemed
troubled about her, and used to look up and say, "Can't you speak
to me out of heaven? Can't you just whisper a little?"
A few days ago she went into the kitchen and sat down very soberly.
"It's very bad," she began, "to have naughty legs go into heaven.