"Ladies! _Ladies!_" I pounced on it. "Do you know what 'ladies' means? Of course you don't,--you're much too ignorant. It means--'loaf-givers', providers, dispensers of bounty, care-takers, home-makers. You--all of you--with your lazy, thick bodies trussed into your straight fronts and your fat feet crammed into bursting pumps and your idle hands blazing with jewels" (I know I was bromidic there, but my Phillipic was too swift to be polished) "and your empty heads dyed and marcelled, you're not loaf-givers,--you're not givers at all, you're takers! You're loafers--cumberers of the earth--fat slugs, that's what you are, each and every one of you! _You_"--I pointed to Mrs. Laney--"you don't even see that your children are properly fed! You don't make home livable, let alone lovable for your husband, and at this moment"--I swept the feast with a fierce and baleful eye--"you're a thief!" She shrieked at that and all the women got to their feet. It was as if I'd thrown a bomb--and I daresay they thought I might at any instant. "A thief," I said, "takes what doesn't belong to him, and this doesn't belong to you! You're deep in debts,--bills that your poor, harassed husband cannot pay!"--and before she could emit the furious words on her lips--"Oh, no, you're not going to discharge me! You can't, for I've left already! I wouldn't stay another night in your wretched house, I wouldn't eat another of your wretched meals. You may keep my week's wage. I wish you'd buy the children beefsteak with it but I've no doubt it will go for cocktails and henna!" Then, while they gasped and jibbered with rage and got behind each other and shook in their bulging pumps, I turned on my heel and made a stunning exit, gathered up my belongings and came away. There was no welcome on Mrs. Mussel's mat, but I'm still glowing. Aren't you both immensely pleased with me? I am with myself! J. CHAPTER XIV _The Next Night._ MY DEARS, You know, the woman who runs the Stupidity Bureau didn't think me a heroine at all! Quitting your job at the end of the first week, going off explosively, as I did, doesn't endear the Honest Working Girl to the management. It simply isn't done. She was so frigid that I decided to scratch domestic labor from my list. I shall join the gainful army in the busy marts. Mrs. Mussel telephoned to the Stranger's Friend and the kind little S.F. bustled right out and took me to a stereopticon lecture on the bee. Subtle, wasn't it? Treatment by indirection. And she gave me a note to a department store which will probably take me on. Meanwhile, G--N-- J. _Next Night._