Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 26, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 30 January 1919 — Page 2

Jones Gets a Raise

By IMES MACDONALD

<C«pjTUrht, ISIS, by McClure Newspaper 3 ... . 'i Syndicate ) 7 Young Mr.«®SBS gave his inkling machine a few teiiialive agtthi lapsedinto n rn-. erie. Five years out of -ivnridwestiiiti •e<>IUCT nnd lI. Jones had ntt’-e Tfoimmst of in tin 1 way-r-f-vTut-vt-mt-hri lie had been ambitious, but /.eagiT rind, euihuslastie apjto hiSjobfor five-long Jt-nr* Ittid fmhnl to lift h'in out of the clerk's class. When lie had taken the job in answer to an advertisement lie had l een —HH*I n future for the rizht man." I’.ei.-he yens still doing the same work ho had been doing after his first iliriv luonilis.iuUx. ■ <h<? eotupnnr.- —4+r* twk m errjob with sincere and industrious pur- ; &<»fe withoai ,Hs~ t>rrhyhig _litin uuything In flic wit) >’T mb iiiieemenf _ and now that it was June again th'e prospect of another long, hot summer in that office galled him. With a thoughtful air he withdrew from his wallet a clipping which he tead torn from his newspaper on the way downtown in the subway that morning. 777777773 7' 3.~ * “WANTED— Athletic -young man as Imatimuj on gen os, -a t»- 4 < *nneeticut. shore. Must lie expert swinirner —know motorboats. sailboats and canoes—makerepairs and be generally useful and obliging; SGO monthly and board. See Mrs. Agnes Turner between 10 and I*2 Tuesday. Hotel Arkwright.” .And after he had read the nd through onee mere young Mr. Jones arose from his <l**<k find eruorM theprivate office of his great and exclusive boss, the well-known Mr. Henry I*. Higgs. Mr. Riggs, or “Old H. 1’.." as ho was called in the outer office, stared at the impulsive Mr. Jones with surly surprise. The privacy of his domain had never before -been so violated. ‘‘Well?” he demanded. - -■—ryrr: “I'm Jones,” said Jones, “David R. Jones. I’ve been with this company live years. I have a fair education, a certain amount of brains and some ability. When I came here I was promised rapid advancement and a future, and before I die of old age at s■"•"> a week I thought I'd go into the matter with you.” “Well?" repeated Old IT. I’. sourly. “I want a man's job and $3,000 a year from today or I'm through.'' Old H. I‘. glared, and the barest crinkle of 'a sutvasHc suttle puckered up ..one corner cjfllmc inoutln.—‘lY'ou’re through, ail right!” he agreed, “and you won't find ihree-ihou-aml dollarloi»s Ik;.aging on trees around this town, young man." _j . “Anyway,” grinned Jones affably, “I don't «intt nd to hang on this tree till I'm rotten. There are plenty of other trees growing in the orchard of Manhattan;” - “Very well." growled Old H. I’., turning back to his desk. "But if you don t get your fancy job you can have-your Ufa’ tfrxr<»f September “he filing over ins snotiider. . “Huh’.'' he grunted a few days later when the incident recurred to him. J “The young squirt ! And 1 was proud of ■ fifteen -n- week at hk- age I” --| But at that very moment David It. ill a..-I*-" etc— jer.>cy and -i an old pair of flannel trousers, was ■ tuning up the engine of a high-powered ; HHHw’x»at:-fip'OH^ficA'oftftet i t-iT?iJt~shrTrc r . 1 “Hello. boatmanshouted a voice above tlie din, and Jones tOQked up to 1 see a smiling face.peer.ng at him over ; the edge of Ahe dock. She swung her legs over and Turned around with the fnletitipn of i .sliding down backwards to the deck of the boat, seine six fget below.ller 1 skin caught on a bolt.‘but she kept rig' _• till tlm modi■< Jir. Jones was co i p* lied to turn his .face away. TT“Trih6ok fiie." 4bv finally wailed in--; dignautly. Ami Juries. wiping hi-’ dirty hand’s, on a piece of wasjre. reached up obediently and unhooked her. setting ; her safely on her feet with a-grin. “My—my coming was quite a revelation. wasn't it?" she said demurely, the colijr deepening tn Iter eheeks. But Jones had pretended not to no* tier, although the nice men wh<* pr<,tend never to notice are the very ones who never miss anything. “Who might “you he?'' he alHi^dTfl'^iniTtytr'".' ' i ~ “Em Letta, the youngest.” she lijjighmily got here just a little While ago— . Louise aud Nina and- Aunt Agqes, AUhty says you imprt -.m-iI her very favorably at your interview in town, ami she thinks you're going to be a very nice boatman. What's ytiur name?" And from that day forth David R. Jones was Lmta's very own. She appropriated him as something sent to her by . the -gods for her eww esjieeifil pleasure and amusement. they paloked- thb' boats—mended the dock- rebuilt the float. Sturdily 'she ; worked at his and in between ■ tWies - If--rite rest of the family noticed it at all they merely passed It off with a shrugt-for after nil Lona was only, a kid. but—- > Th?* day H. B. Riggs was expected ttp’to spend"a withjids family. Junta kind Jones went across the. bay ia lite motorboat to meet him, was ihtro<&cetLxo4be fr.vvtiy yonng boatman by hiaMaughfei. At first he did ' not recognize j Ipheri, but the way Loixa hovered over ‘

that young men drew her father's unW’hlle he glowered over hia dau iliierla so apparent affection for his erstwhile, clerk; Jobes' Identity registered Itself on his bruin. I_!Ls really a boatman.’’ <*x- ■] -plained Letta to her father that night “at the’'aniiirr tiifiT^3- Tie's jiist a,- veTji ni»-e young imin wm» worked lii- fieod A. I ’!?.JQ.VT, groudix..ul‘l.. man wh > W-'itldn’l give” In.n a -;oiF<t»e3 &uDuVy uiitule up Ids mind to Imve a nice vacation this summer and find a lu-’ler ,i<lh IUiO lull." - And a-- usual Ic'tn trim -1 t!:r<'ii_'h JieiLJlUihe£—dfiiE-slljipeil down to the I Hi: •-h-it I: < 1 Ikt vy Jeni’S.* ' e • "“7*3“ , “Why, ♦Ur-m-bTtdU" sit'oLl >avy. a few : niauus lai"ti'ld him tlmr. .-Your.Tuifier wa>- the :>•.} U u \ u'lio wiiuldu't - give -me a etec!" . ; And Lei):: silt baefi auaiust an upt iii iivi! I > ;i: in amazeiiient. “ATeiiri ofil thing!" site sai-d. di-irespeetluliy, with \.-i<>iis in ,lk , j'-_v<»uug mind of ]>intlng it over oii’her father. ’I hen site Je;Vn-i-d her slim lenmh against Davv Jones, with , one hand eiirled beh.jid _ hi-_ imek "7 nd, ~4£-'xuu7v^^ay£f7lulil~any.obe- y -- ■» lov< <| stamrng as wes; l«eg-gtng-to -la* -kissed, x eH—pmrlmbly k!i»-ev- 1 -Juat= wieit Joires did idamt it. ;' “^TnceTlke"V< ; fj fiI r '?’“<T:iy7D7vy ifear. I've bei tt—w anting you tie -kiss me.” she Was saying, its tlie glow of Old' 11. P.'s cigar came around the corner i of’ the boathouse; r For a moment he stopped and watched the two who stood so close together there, his daughter trad—Davy J-oues —rimn die Wtt iketf-rrt t-r :uid -f: i rcd -tll rrn gri in+rr—"l suppose you'll he wal It 111 g v our I old job bm k again." said 11. I’. Riggs to the startled Mr. Joia-s. “When a matt's mi-.rried he ratlii‘r needs a Jolt. - doesu’tr-he3—But-1 he fwo-trf- y «»»■ can't live on thirty five- n week.” “Latta says we can.” grinned Jones, hugging that willing young woman just a bit rloser—and then he bluffed a little. "Hoiti’ver. we won't liitvi' gg I'm starting A\Hli’ R";-. tw V.’t umn K < Hu* first of September at .S.”>.3o<> a yen r.” Whereupon Lotta.squeezed his arm and eyed her father hostilely. For a moment IL I’. Riggs withstood that glance and then he extended his hand with a grin. “On the contrary. Dave," he said almost genially, “yori’re starting with H. P. Riggs & Co. nt ss,ooo—and eventually a —a partnership." —Wind then Lotta gracinusly transferred one Davy Jones' kisses to her father and back agaim

DESIGNED FOR THE CURIOUS

Not Hard to Trace Origin rind Reason for the Garebo in Architectural Designs. No name could be more descriptive limn gazebo for a building, whether it assume the form of a tower or balvorry. which was erecteiT~for~~nfe~pur-~ pose of enabling.anyone to gnze iibont: -arnFTlTore is no need to hunt through the pages of n dietianuTyJor tho orrgln of so ohvimis nt?iiu—Curiosity is common to the race, and contrivances of till kinds have been called for throughout the ages, mid will conUiuw to be, to enable people tri pry into , their■nrr-ghbor-c rfi-fi-tr*nmd-nrrhitvet 1 ' uraT solutions of the problem must a'l- • -ways-he—ris—-3xj qmmtly Proved most pictiiresqne. ; Doubtless in the remotest .antiquity such timiins of jwyin.g were‘in vog.ie. and fire h'f.r.ging gardens of Ihiby! m may have presented replicas of the { towers of Kent or Chambers; but we | “will go no further - back for examples than Pliny's vUki-4it4,uur<mDMw.- —The. I'fmi '-. :i- wo kuww. were o's ■ ■ry inquiring turn of mind, and tire most apprc.pr ! :e> ly cieii'ieiiioriitfil nt Cmuo. their supposed birthplace; on the west front of t!ie cathedrai. by a sculptnri-1 representation of each engaged in looking out of a window. Thus it was that when Pliny the Younger built his. celebrated villa he gave it two as they could be used" neither for de--fensei hi; such a place nor for smokihg -rooiiis at -uch a period, we can only stipjmse—tlu’in to have been tJE.ee.htsl to serve as gaz.i'bos where ho Could ; .hmk.’ iwu Jhe groU-nds. <.0'.44s tier g’tiers J UTrfi Avtit eh riieir i-ucmti4ugs-4Ujd-aiiig£>.--j ings.-i-J. 'Traverier Perry in Architect (England).

Joe’s Mistake.

Six-year-old Joe had the. Influenza. : Knowing that Aunt_.Anne always, brought gifts to her sick nephexvs and j nieces he expressed a desire to see 1 her. She came and brought with her , several toys and books. Eight-year-old Virginia arid Aunt Anne were both Joe’s bedside " hen mother .brought TYf .Ills medicine. gJne; fret ted* against taking Jt, and Aunt Anne generously tie man auntie will get you a new soldier's cap.” she promised. t A few minute- later in the dining room adjoining the sick room whe heard th.* gift <l. “You didr't 'take *>n enough. JWT Virginia was critirtzing her brother. "If . yOu had fried ,lqud like everything you'd a got a whole suit of clothes*.” -

Good From Alchemy.

The philosophers stone never ex-, (cred- except hypothetically in the imaginationof Credulous humanity. But oui of the of iritiuy dhoyghtfur men the. ha?- grow n With its 'enlightened views and fuller knowledge. A Icheray.al though lu many re- • spects a remarkable example of the extent to which'humaif reason may aberrate, can never be without human • fresh gelds of research, and led to the discovery. of many facts of greatini porta nee during its atttnge and devioua.

3'' ■ . THE EVENING REPUBLICAN. RENSSELAER, INB.

Quick Change in Style of Gowns

i New York.—lt Is time to change a few things in women’s apparel, asserts' a prominent fashion authority. Women are leaping from uniforms into medieval gowns of igold, and crystal. ■fitET tmie in"firilltant colors? ‘mmririto’ 1 smashing furs and red street apparel. There are -’giiifiimi't 3e:eworking up frtmt the grterntd? 'i the now dOf tilt at n g;e7' 11 ir li tY us.pi ophofipfi f fir “this Weeks ug. i ami’ I which is cmr'lng into view SS smart !' women exploit it. Half a dozen iiew ways of cutting the neckline have I leaped into.existcri.ee alid a dozi'-u new ' collars claim the blue* ribbon of ex- ' cellencc. No maiiCf.w heiherwe dress differently about The hips mid feet, We tire Tlres-ing ileooiodly IU-neioiitly about the neck nntl fvm the wrists— — i Tin ihoi o s+gnitiiMiirt —ciumgeitr ‘ thin thr- ;il‘e !ri-t<i..-sted who do not feel that they-cau--4 <4ffor<r erit treiy hew gowns foe- the- midseason. . . The artlst \vF|Oisaid that all changes. ; In fashions for women consisted in the placemenF~of the bulge,' or the absence of it. should hove added that the I open spaces in costumes were second i in importance. I Cut t<i the hour-, there is no doubt ' that he was right. The contoim isJbe t*Fhfrig.“7 it is ' where a ’ garment goes tie ny piH that •determine* ion. there (ire who are brave enough to go against the contour of the hour, evt-n though it may not suggest the best there is in their figures. ■» —New Decolletage. The change in the neckline is perhaps the most important to the average woman; She has belief in herself when it <-oiues to cutting a new kind of neckline; -She feels that a good pair of scissors may be the medium of transforming an old gown into a new gown by the simple process of turning an oblong neck into a round one, , a square one, or a U-shaped one.

V-shaped decolletage in back of a black velvet evening gown which is cut high in front. This idea is Worked out in many types of gowns, even those for street. Delta decolletage shown in new brocade evening gown in white and gold. This neckline originated in the Elizabethan days.

All history is filled with rapid changes in the- neckline, and so far we have not had anything new. We have rung the bells of history, all over again. That is all. When Edward TI was king of England the women wore the geor--goUee-Ayhich wrinklyd-about the. neck and..spread outward over Thfe-c’nin and the fiack of the head. This was, 4mnal -to fashion a few-'.yearns ago. througlk.a' dancer and her clever designer. It is still worn" by wdmen who go motoring, and they’make it of dark blue crepe or. veiling, rather than of white satin, When Richard II was king his queenbrought over .the fa-hion of the low.neck, and so, after centuries, women dropped the neckband of the gown from chin to collar bone. ' -i ■ ' When Elizabeth was queen of England the del,ta decolletage xvas invented, umirit-pw-along-with another neckr line that exposed all the, chest gqd j MIL the tFhmdders. and then, ■ as it by m sudden spasm of prudery, hid the neck and ears by an immense ruff. XVhen James. I came to the throne of England his queen introduced the' very* decollete, tight bodice with its immense? flaring'.collar of wired' lace at the back, and when Charles I rdh>wcd Henriette of France ’to lend tM. fashions for his court, there was the low, npund neckline that dipped well downward in the back and was -finished with a deep vandyke: collar - that emended over the sleeves. 3- : 7 ? -jIn the picturesque cays of Queen Anne women introduced the low. -j ci;t _d- ! evl7:t;.ge. guiltless, of collar. which olir womeri have worn for two decades; and in th«e middle of the eighteenth century, in the Georgian era, wofiten used a simple decolletage lit a rounded' V Outlined with a wnnklrd hnndkerebref ’ ats aypart" ;©f* thejr Street attire. • x the mind river this slight • • • • ' ' « ■ •

summary of historical changes in the decolletage, It is easy to see that we have done nothing new; but here is what we are going to do at the immediate moment: Revive the delta of Hie Elizabethan times; the deep'square of Queen Anne, with Its tight, high Tine a? The sid^ ; of the fieck? and L'-shajAed decolletage- of the end of J the eighteen th century, with its mod* esty pi* ce riflnci. . . . ' Return of Lace Collars. IVe hn've gon? through a season, of medieval severity in the neckline, Sttaneil I.I'VC ai<l* *l i*ature which um<k them ugly or cheated nature which nmde.Them beautiflil J>y__going about without any softening effect at the ,-nock. by y.i nriur- eciil collars of hCUVV ■ homespim tmrelieved h.v white, and by .-ilni us» ofi. V-shapeii lines of heavy veL wot con am! crepe which fashion kept iinridorned. [biie t>> hi-ioi-y tliic was, uvt not true to nr.. Til* re were few women •. ho lo .!<-•<! their best in such severity. Today collars return slowly. I There are still those who tell you' they are not smart, but at the exclusive house there is a tendency to put precious lace on the new neckline. It is not a V-shaped neckline; it is a deep U which calls for a Thing outline anti afi-lSfreTrielv’ soft arrange ment of lace or tulle across the bust. The” Queen Anne decolletage which hugs the .side of the neck and runs down into a narrow L-shaped opening is extremely smart, and it is banded with fur and then filled in with fine folds of silk net. It is felt by those who have their hands on the pulse of fashion that the oblong neckline of the Renaissance is no longer smart, although it is worn by some well-dressed women. Double Neckline. There is a disposition on the part of some designers to make a double neckline, and this they do by a subtle

arrangement of thin fabrics. A certain designer has turned out a remarkably brilliant gown of raspberry chiffon having a deep U-shaped decolletage outlined with chinchilla v ruli swings tlua chiffon with the movemeni of the figure, as though it wore a necklace.—Beneath it, and hugging the bust' in the eighteenth cenmanner, is a bodice with a rounded decolletage. 7 , - -- - There will be an oblong Renaissance nc e'< 1i ne thitt rea ch es from -shea 1 der- to shoulder, cut on a tight satin bodice, und over.that will be swung a looser bodice of colored chiffon or tulle which is high at the back and has a long; rounded line in front that drops to the waist. Black and seal, brown velvet afternoon gowns have the Queen Anne decolletage, which the exact line where the neck is placed on the body. Until it gets to the collar bone, where it dips into a straight, open space half way to the waist. This is outlined w tih fur. Again, ft may be outlifirid with Venetian point. Th 4 deltff"decolletage is considered the most becoming of all fqp- evening wear. Get out any picture of Elizabethan times and yob will see what is meant. In that gorgeous era the women wore a jeweled piece of open net over the shoulder to base of the neck, at each side, arid then the i decolletage spread downward and outward to the arm-pits, Take this change in the neckline senipusly. It will govern the clothes jff the next few weeks. x ;/ ; - : - tCnpyright. IflSby McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) " ■'

White Collars.

In spite of the fact that some of the newest rrOcks have no white at the throat. and that othehs fpvor the rounded neck, with, lace and a tucker, stillMnhCrs, feature a white satin cdliar .-tends in the* front over th* ir-a/ct quite to the waistilfhe. ~

VINTAGE TIME IN TUSCANY..

IT WAS the vintage time, and I tried to forget that half of Christendom was plunged in a great war. Leaving the fighting line, I wandered about In the lovely freedom of the hill country of Tuscany, past villas which are surmised rather than seen through the long vistas of grave, still cypresses and around smiling, silvergreen olive slopes from whose summits beckon dignified palace fortresses of the Medicis or sterner and more aged ivy-decked towers, writes a Tuscany correspondent of the New York Evening Post. Finally, I reached the road of my morning’s quest and stopped where a high wall, after many turns and twists, suddenly opened to a vision of green terraces. .It was the gate to the podere upon which Tonino and his forebears have labored for the Inst century and a half—the family “going to the land,” not as serfs, but as willing servants of the soil. Entering the terraced farm, I skirted a stout wall with ivy spreading lovingly over its gray stones; a hedge of winter roses followed me in fragrant companionship all the way to Tonino’s ' farmhouse, a structure poised bravely over a precipitous ledge of rocks. The house itself might be called an architectural slant of walls, chimneys, stone flags and steps running off and down in all directions till they seem to merge with the vines and the. olive tree and the green sod. • I lingered a moment, then followed in the wake of a primitive oxcart, painted bright red, on which the empty grape vats rumbbled sonorously as the plodding beasts dragged their draft over the stony road. Harvesting the Grape Crop. It was a pagan—almost bacchanalian —picture, as those huge white and big-horned, moved slowly and processionally down the way. flanked by ■gfape~vnre§ntrFnidTussrfustiviT wreathsand festoons strung from tree to-tree. At the lower terrace a host of neighbors was busily at work cutting the dew-moistgrapes, dropping she luscious bunches into picturesque baskets lying alt about. —The sun played in glad, shifting shadows in and out of the vines’ and olive trees, while the damp soil, drinking in the solar warmth, exuded a ifljMsture heavily odorous with the abounding vitality of Mother Earth. • - a The harvesters included many women. some territorial soldiers on leave and a few children. No one, old or voung, gave signs of fatigue; the labor *vas pursued slowly and easily, not at all as a. struggle in overcoming time, or resistance. It was this seeming slowness of the laborers in Italy which often gives to the outsider, especially to the nervous and strenuous Ainerican observer, the impression of a wastage of time in tile accomplishment of things. This apparent slowness, however, is rather a wise restraint and distribution of effort, coupled with traditional skill or special hardiness,which bring about results by deftness as well as by mere expenditure of force. 1 So, at this harvesting, all of that crowded, terraced acreage had been shorn of its grapes by sundown, and all the fruit carried away to the wine press. :: :::: " u.Supper for Tonino’s Laborers. At nine in the evening we gathered at Tonino’s house for the harvest supper, to which, by immemorial custom, everyone who has labored in the vineyards must be invited. We entered by the kitchen door, near which hunt's little oil lamp patterned after those of the Etruscans; at the long table in the main room of this casa colonica sat three generations of harvesters—--24 men, women and children. 1 warm, sobthing. “natural” odor of oxen and stable came thinly and not .unpleasantly into the feast chamber, which had that dignity of proportion and fine simplicity of lines which speaks of Tuscan taste, even in these humble quarters. A light hung from the center of the ceiling threw a rather, dim illumination over the. festive board, but amply sufficient for us to seeatlthe good things which awaited our impending attack. First soup was served from huge bowls into deep, ca-

A Road in Tuscany.

pacious dishes; next came a rich and satisfying fritto misto, and thendarge platters, burdened with pasta redolent with an herb savored sauce. There was plenty of honest wine to wash down the huge slashes of war bread served out generously to all of us. No Bitterness in War Talk. After the pleasant business of eating was over the men started talking about the war. It was a simple, rather objective discussion, without bitterness or hatred, of something unpleasant which had to be done, but all must wish that it should be ended and laid aside as soon as possible. Then the conversation waxed warm in the more direct and personal realities of the year’s corps, and the promise for the coming seasons. One by one the little children snuggled closer to their mothers’ sides and childish heads bent sleepily over the table or fell, relaxed and safe, on arms soft and solicitous with maternal care. The drowsiness of a hard day’s labor crept irresistibly upon the men, urging them to well-earned and refreshing sleep. We said good night and started homeward; the little oil lamp hy the door had flickered out, but a faint moonlight was bathing the landscape in a soft, mystical indistinctness; far away the domes and towers of Florence rose skyward like dream syinbols of hopes and darings, of love and faith. I sat in contemplation, watching the moonlight wax stronger and brighter, making more real and definite the picture of peace on earth spread so wondrously before me, till my thoughts wandered away to another harvest scene, far removed among sterner but no less peace loving mountains, a harvest scene of battle wherein men like those with whom I had gathered grapes today were the protagonists; " We have been told of the thrill of a. gallant assault and the stirring emotions of a brave defense, but what of the harvest after the fighting is over and one walks over the fields plowed by the merciless artillery and harrowed by the -struggles-and* the sufferings of men. What of the fruitage of battle, not alone of the dead and the wounded we have been told so often, but of all the'other and indescribably sad things which the eye and the heart of the harvest gathers! Amidst Scenes of Desolation. Look! A once flourishing little town, with not a single one of its houses unscathed, and most of them horribly rent asunder, showing the debris of what had once been the privacy and the sanctity of peaceful hearths. In the partial -shelter of these shells of homes along the main streets of the town, countless men are sitting -or crouching, in full fighting equipment, waiting for orders’™ proceed to the front trenches, where a battle has just been fought and won. Let us walk to the battlefield; it is reached through a pine wood still smoking resinously from the fires which the bursting shells have started. The road is wholly exposed to the range of the enemy’s artillery, but thousands of men have gallantly crossed it in order to reach theiFcomrades in the trenches beyond. You can see what the harvest has been here! There are fragments of shrapnel and unexploded shells qlqng every foot of the line; by the whir of the projectiles still passing over our heads we can reconstruct the scene of fire of some hours ago ; the, shells whizz hy us with shat horrible suggestive rotatory sound which seems to say: Coming, Coining, Bang—and you die!

Dog Had Something to Say.

- The Hon. John W-. Davis, appointed our amba ssa dor in LoUdonln suceession to Mr. Page, is an eminent lawyer., ' •, •„ ■ ■ ■ ■ . < Mr. Davis tells the story of ft very Small boy who was trying to lead a big gt. Bernard up a busy thoroughfare.' “Where are you going to take • hat dog' my little ehgp?”'inquired a passerby. “I—f’m going to see where —where he wants to go first,” was the breathless reply.