“To think,” she said, “that if they had only made it a day later, dear Charlie would have been exempt. It’s too tragic, Tish.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” said Tish in a cold tone. “He does not have to register. He was born at seven in the morning, June fifth.”
“In the evening, Tish,” said Aggie gently. “I was there, you know, and I remember——”
Tish gave her a terrible look.
“Of course you would know,” she observed, icily. “But as I was in the room, and recall distinctly going out and telling old Amanda, the cook, about breakfast——”
“Supper,” said Aggie firmly. “You were excited, naturally. But I was in the hall when you came out, and I was expecting my first gentleman caller, which no girl ever forgets, Tish. I remember that Amanda was hooking my dress, which was very tight, because we had waist lines in those days and I wanted——”
“Aggie,” Tish thundered, “he was born early in the morning of June fifth. He will be thirty-two years of age early in the morning of Registration day. And if he tries to register I shall be on hand with the facts.”
Well, whether she was right or not, she was convinced that she was, and it is useless to argue with her under those circumstances. Luckily she heard a dog in the lot just then, and threw down a broken bottle and some bricks at him, and the woman in the apartment below raised a window and threatened to report her to the Humane Society. But, as usual, Tish was more than her equal.
“Come right up, then,” she said. “Because I am a member of the Humane Society and have been for twenty years. I consider throwing bricks at that dog as patriotic a duty as killing a German, any day.”
Here, by accident, the basket slid off the window-sill, and Tish closed the window violently.