"Ruth?" he called. "He's not my son," rejoined the carpenter. He had mentioned teaching her how to read Latin one day when she had wandered into the library. "Time to dress for dinner," said Ruth from behind the curtain. 'He that woos a maid',— fol-de-rol—(hiccupping). The other was to go into business—into a photographer’s reception-room, for example, or a costumer’s or hat-shop. ‘No! Let me alone!’ ‘It is not safe!’ ‘That is entirely my affair, and not your affair in the least,’ she told him haughtily. Ruth was at that stage where the absorption of facts is great, but where the mental digestion is not quite equal to the task. " "You…. " "Poh, poh, my dear! Mr.
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