perusing her morning mail. Mr. Chetwood chuckled, but graduated it into a pronounced cough.
"Yes, ma'am!" said Chet, meekly.
"What kind of language is this that you bring to our table? Your grandmother certainly was honorable"
"That's an imitation of the stilted expressions of the Japs and Chinks," interrupted Chetwood. "Thought you'd like it. It's formal, abounds in flowery expressions, and may not be hastened. Quotation from Old Dimple," he added, sotto voce.
"Please leave your grandmother out of it," said Mrs. Belding, severely. "And if you mean Professor Dimp, your teacher at Central High, do not call him 'Old Dimple' in my presence," which showed that Mother Belding's hearing was pretty acute.
"Anyhow," said Chet, "I'm going to try the ice after breakfast. Going to get Lance and we'll have some fun. Better get your skates, Laura."
"No. I'm going to the store with father—if we don't both tumble down and roll to the bottom of the hill at Market Street, like Jack and Jill," laughed his sister.
"Teams can't get over the asphalt this morn-
