"Lapid----Aho! I got it! It's probably a crittur up at that zoo! I ain't forgot that hop, skip and jump, walloping Australian tornado! And now His Honor has put in a lapidary!! I think I'll go up with that old canvas bag! But why all sich high-brow stuff in naming critturs? This lapidary thing might turn out only a rat, or a goofy bug!" But that _fairy_ bug, Dan Cupid, goofy or not, as you wish, was buzzing around again; and, though this story is not of wild, romantic infatuations, in which rival villains fight for a fair lady's hand, I am bound to say that Cupid has put on an act varying _much_ from his works in Gadsby's mansion; for _this_ arrow from his bow caught two young folks to whom a dollar bill was as long, broad and high as City Hall. Both had to work for a living; but by saving a bit, off and on, Sarah Young, who, you know, with Priscilla Standish first thought of our Night School, and Paul Johnson, who did odd jobs around town, such as caring for lawns, painting and "man-of-all-work," had put by a small bank account. Paul was an orphan, as was Sarah, who had grown up with a kindly old man, Tom Young; his "old woman," dying at about Sarah's fourth birthday. (That word "old woman," is common amongst Irish folks, and is not at all ungracious. It _had_ to crawl into this story, through orthographical taboos, you know.) But Sarah, now a grown young lady, had that natural longing for a spot in which a woman might find that joy of living, in having "things to do for just us two" if bound by Cupid's gift--matrimony. Many a day in passing that big church of Nancy's grand display, or Gadsby's rich mansion, Sarah had thought fondly about such things; for, as with any girl, marrying amidst blossoms, glamour and organ music was a goal, to attain which was actual bliss. But such rituals call for cash; and lots of it, too. Also, Old Tom Young had no room in any way fit for such an occasion.