The sunshine outside was alluring and there was a mud-pie in a half finished state in the yard. Florence reluctantly withdrew herself to the privacy of the nursery. In a surprisingly short time she opened the door and poked her head out. “It’s all right, mother,” she said. “I told God all about it and He says He didn’t blame me a bit. He thought it was a bear, too, when He first saw it.” § 232 Suffering from a Relapse In those wicked days before the Eighteenth Amendment and the Volstead Act put an end to all liquor-drinking in America there were two actors in New York who sometimes carried their social inclinations to an extreme. To put the matter brutally, they occasionally had attacks of what were known in the vernacular as the “willies.” While recuperating from these seizures they customarily patronized the same sanitarium. Let us, for convenience’s sake, call them A. and B. It befell one day that A. felt himself to be acutely in need of a period devoted to rest and restoration. As he approached the door of the sanitarium he met his friend, B., rather white and drawn-looking, just coming out. “’Lo, old man,” said A. somewhat thickly, and with difficulty repressing a hiccup, “whaz mazzer wiz you? Same ol’ complaint, eh?” “I’m all right now,” said B., “but I’ve had an awful time. Never again for me—I’m through. You may think I’m a little bit shaky and nervous now, but you should have seen me last week before I began to get over it. Why, man, for ten days, little red lizards with green eyes and purple tails were crawling all over me.” With his horrified eyes starting from his head, A. aimed a tremulous forefinger at B.’s coat collar. “My God, man!” he cried. “You—you ain’t well yet! There’s one of ’em on you now!” § 233 One Old Enough to Merit Respect I venture to present here and now the famous and deservedly immortal tale of the Educated Flea. At a theatrical hotel a vaudeville performer was stopping. He was the owner of a troupe of performing fleas. One evening, at dinner, he was telling his fellow-lodgers how he went about the job of training his tiny pets. To demonstrate, he cleared a space on the table, took one of his fleas, an especially intelligent and gifted insect, out of a small box, and proceeded to put the lively little chap through his paces. “Hop East!” he commanded, and the flea hopped. “Hop West!” The flea obeyed. “Forward!” The flea marched. “Face about!” And the flea whirled into the air to execute the command. But one of the lady boarders, in the intensity of her interest, was bending close and the flea landed in her hair and was instantly lost from view. Confusion followed. After much searching the lady produced the truant and the performance was resumed. “Hop East!” the man commanded, but the flea refused to move.