The old man made no reply, and Miss Billy went on: "The window upstairs has never been mended----" Mr. Schultzsky shuffled his feet uneasily, but gave no other sign of having heard her speech. "And our front walk is so broken that it will be the death of somebody some day," continued Miss Billy. She paused for a response, but none came. "When we came in here you promised to put the house in good repair for us," said the girl desperately, "but you have not kept your word. Everything that is new about the premises _we_ have added. Theodore put up the fence, and has been puttering around the place ever since we moved in; the bill for painting and papering the house was sent to father (I never should have paid it if I had been in his place), although you promised to have it done. The whole house is shaky on its legs, and weak in its joints, and yet we are paying you big rent for it. I found out to-day that you are charging us five dollars a month more than you did the last tenants." Did Miss Billy imagine it, or was there a gleam of avaricious triumph in the half-closed eyes? "You are not dealing fairly with us!" she exclaimed wrathfully. Then, in a more amiable tone, she added: "We _want_ to be good tenants, you know; but aren't you going to make any of your promises good?" Mr. Schultzsky took out his dingy bandanna and mopped his forehead. He made neither apology nor protest. "The rent is due," he said. Miss Billy's cheeks glowed as she meekly handed out the bills. "Maybe they'll make him more responsive," she thought to herself. The landlord folded them, put them carefully into a huge wallet, and placing the rent account against the side of the house, receipted the paper in a queer cramped hand. Then thrusting it into her mechanical grasp, he turned, and without another word, shuffled off down the walk. He hesitated at the gate and turned. "Good-morning, ma'am," he said. Then climbing into the rattle-trap, he drove rapidly away. Miss Billy, left alone on the doorstep, was torn by conflicting emotions. Angry as she was, she could not fail to see the humour in her ignominious defeat. And she was not the only one who was amused. The screen in Theodore's window came down with a bang, and a boyish voice chanted: "B was once a little Bear, Beary, wary, hairy, beary, Taky cary, little bear." Miss Billy at once retorted: "G was once a little goose, Goosy, moosy, boosey, goosey, Waddly-woosy, little goose," and added, "Did you hear our conversation?" "_Our_ conversation! I heard _yours_. Is Mr. Schultzsky going to fix the premises, or did he raise the rent?" "The old icicle!" scolded Miss Billy. "I couldn't get a word of satisfaction out of him. When he skewered me with those sharp eyes of his I couldn't talk."