"'Harry?'" said Annie Halliway's Mother. "'_Harry?_'--Why, I've got four letters at home for Annie in my desk now--from some im--impetuous young man who signs himself 'Harry!'--He seems to be in an Architect's office in Paris! 'Robin' is what he calls Annie!--'_Dearest_ Robin'----" "Eh?" said Annie Halliway. "What? _Where?_" She sat bolt upright! She scrambled to her feet! She started for the carriage! Her Mother had to run to catch her. The Special Man from New York followed them just as fast as he could. Old Man Smith wheeled his chair to the gate to say "Good-bye." Everything seemed all mixed up. Annie Halliway's Mother never stopped talking a single second. "Oh, my Pet!" she cried. "My Precious. My Treasure!" With one foot on the carriage step the Special Man from New York turned round and looked at Old Man Smith. He smiled a funny little smile. "Seek--and ye shall find!" he said. "That is--if you only know _How_ and _Where_ to seek." Old Man Smith began to chuckle in his beard. "Yes, I admit that's quite a help," he said, "the knowing _How_ and _Where!_--But before you set out seekin' very hard for anything that's lost it's a pretty good idea to find out first just exactly what it is that you're seekin' for!--When a young lady's lost her _mind,_ for instance, that's one thing!--But if it's her _heart_ that's lost, why, that, of course, is quite another!" Annie Halliway's face wasn't white any more. It was as red as roses. She had it in her Mother's shoulder. The horses began to prance. The carriage began to creak. Annie Halliway's Mother looked all around. "Oh, dear--oh, dear--oh, dear, Mr.--Mr. Smith," she said. "How shall I ever repay you?" Old Man Smith reached out his hand across the fence. There was sort of a twinkle in his eye. "One dollar, please," said Old Man Smith. THE BOOK OF THE FUNNY SMELLS--AND EVERYTHING It was Carol who invented the Book. He didn't mean any harm. I helped him. We called it "The Book of the Funny Smells--and Everything." It was one Tuesday noon coming home from school that we stopped the Lady on the street. She was a very interesting looking lady. She looked like all sorts of different-colored silk roses. And a diamond brooch. "Excuse us, Madam," I said. "But we are making a book! And we have decided to begin it with you! If you were a Beautiful Smell instead of a Beautiful Lady,--what Beautiful Smell in the Whole Wide World would you choose to be?" The lady reeled back against the wall of the Post Office. And put on a gold eyeglass to support her. "Merciful Impudences!" she said. "What new kind of census is this?" We knew what a "census" was. "No! It isn't that at all!" I explained. "This is something important." Carol showed her the book. He showed her the pencil he was going to write the book with. "When it's all done," I explained, "everybody will want to read it!" "I can well believe it," said the Lady. She looked at Carol. Everybody looks at Carol.