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PAGE 2

Tish Does Her Bit
by [?]

Charlie Sands came in shortly after, and having kissed us both and tried on a night shirt I was making for the Red Cross, and having found the cookie jar in the pantry and brought it into my sitting room, sat down and came to business.

“Now,” he said. “What’s she up to?”

He always referred to Tish as “she,” to Aggie and myself.

“She has given up going to France,” I replied.

“Perhaps! What does Hannah report?”

I am sorry to say that, fearing Tish’s impulsive nature, we had felt obliged to have Hannah watch her carefully. Tish has a way of breaking out in unexpected places, like a boil, as Charlie Sands once observed, and by knowing her plans in advance we have sometimes prevented her acting in a rash manner. Sometimes, not always.

“Hannah says everything is quiet,” Aggie said. “Dear Tish has apparently given up all thought of going abroad. At least, Hannah says she no longer practises first aid on her. Not since the time Tish gave her an alcohol bath and she caught cold. Hannah says she made her lie uncovered, with the window open, so the alcohol would evaporate. But she gave notice the next day, which was ungrateful of her, for Tish sat up all night feeding her things out of her First Aid case, and if she did give her a bit of iodine by mistake—-“

“She is no longer interested in First Aid,” I broke in. Aggie has a way of going on and on, and it was not necessary to mention the matter of the iodine. “I know that, because I blistered my hand over there the other day, and she merely told me to stick it in the baking soda jar.”

“That’s curious,” said Charlie Sands.

“Because—- Great Scott, what’s wrong with these cigarettes?”

“They are violet-scented,” Aggie explained. “The smell sticks so, and Lizzie is fond of violet.”

However, he did not seem to care for them, and appeared positively ashamed. He opened a window, although it was cold outside, and shook himself in front of it like a dog. But all he said was:

“I am a meek person, Aunt Lizzie, and I like to humor whims when I can. But the next time you have a male visitor and offer him a cigarette, for the love of Mike don’t tell him those brazen gilt-tipped incense things are mine.”

He then ate nine cookies, and explained why he had come.

“I don’t like the look of things, beloved and respected spinsters,” he said. “I fear my revered aunt is again up to mischief. You haven’t heard her say anything more about aeroplanes, have you?”

“No,” I replied, for us both.

“Or submarines?”

“She’s been taking swimming lessons again,” I said, thoughtfully.

“Lizzie!” Aggie cried. “Oh, my poor Tish!”

“I think, however,” said Charlie Sands, “that it is not a submarine. There are no submarine flivvers, as I understand it, and a full-size one would run into money. No, I hardly think so. The fact remains, however, that my respected and revered aunt has made away with about seven thousand dollars’ worth of bonds that were, until a short time ago, giving semi-annual birth to plump little coupons. The question is, what is she up to?”

But we were unable to help him, and at last he went away. His parting words were:

“Well, there is something in the air, and the only thing to do, I suppose, is to wait until it drops. But when my beloved female relative takes to selling bonds without consulting me, and goes out, as I met her yesterday, with her hat on front side behind, there is something in the wind. I know the symptoms.”

Aggie and I kept a close watch on Tish after that, but without result, unless the following incident may be called a result. Although it was rather a cause, after all, for it brought Mr. Culver into our lives.

I think it important to relate it in detail, as in a way it vindicates Tish in her treatment of Mr. Culver, although I do not mean by this statement that there was anything of personal malice in the incident of June fifth of this year. Those of us who know Tish best realize that she needs no defence. Her motives are always of the highest, although perhaps the matter of the police officer was ill-advised. But now that the story is out, and Mr. Ostermaier very uneasy about the wrong name being on the marriage license, I think an explanation will do dear Tish no harm.