Before acting on this advice, however, it might be safer to consult The Family Lawyer.
"SUDDENLY SHE REALISED THAT HER IDOL HAD FEET OF CLAY."—Extract from popular novel.
THE VERY GLAD EYE.
Mother put down the key of the hen-house and took up the letters that lay beside her plate.
"If only Joan would write larger," she sighed, turning over an envelope across which an ant seemed to have walked and left an inky trail. "I've mislaid my glass too, and shan't be able to read a word. Where could I have put the miserable thing?" she asked, peering again at the ridiculous little script.
Father put down his paper and said these hunts for Aunt Matilda were getting monotonous. Only yesterday he had rescued her from some dried bulbs in the greenhouse, and didn't Mother think it time she saw a good oculist and had proper spectacles, instead of using the old lens in that carved gold bauble belonging once to his grandmother's aunt.
"Perhaps it's just a bad habit," she answered with a smile, "or my eyes are getting lazy. But really I can see so well through it, and if they would print the newspapers better—"