align="left">Rollo’s Mother

17 “At everything Rollo said Stella and Anabelle laughed very loud” 27 “I have been angling in the fountain” 37 “A gentleman in a dress suit took his lunch-box” 49 “Mr. Robbins turned and said something I can not print” 59 “Rollo never dreamed that ladies could be so beautiful” 69 “Rollo, catching the spirit of the evening, joined merrily in the conversation” 77 “It was but the work of a moment to undress and leap into bed” 85 “How would you like to visit Greenwich Village?” 95 “Never in his life had Rollo seen such a strange woman” 109 “Round about the great arena stretched thousands of people” 119 “—it seemed to him that he kissed her” 131 “Everything within was very grand and gloomy” 143 “Can you not imagine Anabelle’s joy when she opened all these presents?” 149 “Gentlemen, with your kind permission I will read a poem” 161 “—what a happy ending it is!” 169

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ROLLO IN SOCIETY

When Rollo was between ten and eleven years old he was seated one day in the little arbor which Jonas had built for him. He was playing with some bright stones and shells which his Uncle George had brought him from the seashore, setting them in rows on the edge of his comfortable bench or, again, marching them in columns as he had seen the soldiers go during training-week. One shell in particular, Rollo admired greatly. It was a large clam-shell in which was a beautiful picture of a light-house and a ship in the distance and below were the words “Souvenir of Atlantic City.”

“How pretty,” thought Rollo, “and how clever of a clam to decorate his home so! But I did not know that they could also write.”

While he was absorbed in these reflections he heard his mother’s voice calling, “Rol-lo, Rol-lo.”

At first, Rollo had a great mind not to go for he disliked being disturbed while he was busy with his shells. However, he finally decided it would be best to obey, so, gathering up his stones and placing the clam-shell in his pocket, he ran toward the house. In the entry he found his father, his mother, and Jonas awaiting him. It was evident from their expression that something of importance had happened.

“What do you think, Rollo?” his mother inquired. “We are going to move to the city.”

“HURRAH! HURRAH!” cried Rollo, and then once more, “HURRAH for Atlantic City.”

“Atlantic City?” said his father. “What ever put that idea into your head? We are not going to Atlantic City; we are going to New York.”

“Oh, bother,” said Rollo, crossly, adding, “but if there are light-houses and ships there I shall not mind.”

Now this was very wrong of Rollo, for he should have known that it spoilt the pleasure which his parents had hoped to find in surprising him. Children often behave so by acting natural when they should know better. Rollo’s father was considerably vexed, but, realizing that Rollo was still young, he said kindly, “You have many things to learn, my son, but fortunately you still have time in which to learn them, and New York will do very well to begin with. Atlantic City may come later. But come, we must be off to the photographer’s studio. Hurry, Rollo, and put on your Sunday suit. Uncle George and James and Lucy will be waiting for us.”

While Rollo, a very excited little boy you may be sure, was putting on his blue round-about and his white collar, his mother explained to him that, since they were going to the City to live for a while, they would be expected at certain times to go out in Society.

“What is Society, Mother?” asked Rollo. Rollo’s mother was silent for a while before she replied. “That is a difficult question to answer, Rollo, but I will try to explain. You know that here at home you see a few people very often whom you know very well. You play every day with your cousin Lucy and your cousin James, and Jonas instructs you in