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sighed in great relief when he saw that it still wanted over thirty minutes to seven o’clock.

He stretched, and yawned noisily, luxuriating in a restored sense of freedom, then rose to his feet and gazed at the beach and the leagues of sea with a sense of ownership. He grinned as he admitted to himself that there was something in the song which he remembered his mother singing in the “middle ages,” after all. Pat loved him and the world was his!

He remembered his hat, and laughed when he discovered that he had been lying on it. He recovered the wreck, punched it into wearable shape, and set it upon his head carelessly.

He talked to himself light-heartedly as he made his way in the direction of the road.

“Item, in the new expenses schedule, one hat, forty-five shillings—or less. James, make a note of that and call my attention to it first thing to-morrow morning. Oh, and James—better mention a new suit, too, while you're about it. We must look after ourselves, James. And don’t forget that we must have our hair cut. It is too long altogether. We will overlook it this time, James, because the length of it has undoubtedly saved us from sunstroke this afternoon, but don’t let it occur again. And, just one other thing, James, you really must shed that habit of talking to yourself. Look at those children staring at you open-mouthed. Try whistling for a change.”

He was whistling blithely as he turned into Plover Street. Mrs. Langham was crossing the sidewalk to her car as he passed her house. He interrupted his whistling to raise his battered hat, smile politely upon her and ask her how she did. She replied with one withering glance and a turning of her ample back.

“Delightful evening, isn’t it?” he ventured unabashed.

Mrs. Langham expressed no agreement. She