I attach this information secretively to door-handle. From inside of house I could hear Hon. Siezer making coon-tree noises responded to by war-cry voice of Miss Florence. From top-tip of chandelier Hon. Robt. Burns was reporting peevly, “Fare-bye, for I must leave thee! One parting kiss--ar, ar, ar!!” I sneek silently away on velvet feetsteps, feeling like one Spartan boy who done his duty by escaping from it. Hoping you are the same, Yours truly, _Hashimura Togo_. IX WASHING WINDOWS _To Editor Woman’s Page whose mind is glass which shoots daylight into Subjects._ Dear Sir:-- Until quite recently of yore I remained in the suburbs of Pennsylvania at home of Mrs Nero Fits Gibb, where I stayed as long as I did. It was because of windows that I was exploded off from that lovely situation of employment. Next job of work I shall hitch myself to some house which do not contain any of those glass encumbents. I tell you this narrative. That Hon. Mrs Fits Gibb reside in one large mahogany house containing sifficient windows to see everything through. Bay windows occur at moments when least expected; skylights peep from roof with expression peculiar to pair of spectacles. That house has got windows all over its face from its chin to its forehead, and every door are confused by glass stained brightly to resemble colours. “Togo,” explan Hon. Mrs to me, “I are very fond of fresh daylight.” “You have caged nearly all there is,” I corrode for politeness while gazing at 13 doz. windows surrounding. “When doing nothing,” she explan, “it shall be your duty to wash them windows with careful soap. This will make them more light.” “I am hired for light work,” I suggest. “What are most scientific way to bathe these glass eyes of your home?” “Most artistic window-wash can be obtained with a ladder and a bucket,” she deploy. “Also rags must be used including soap and gymnastics. Take these materials to window requiring cleanliness and rub until exhausted. Continue this massage on next window and therefore on. Industry must be had. Do not abandon a pain of glass until he shine with brilliancy resembling genius.” So I go do what she say. I got ladder, I obcured rags, I obtained sudds bucket according to orders Hon. Mrs Fits Gibb gave me. So farly so goodly. Grasping ladder on my shoulder with military expression I walk around Hon. House to pick out one window what appear good natured & easy. More I looked less I could decide. That Hon. House continue to gaze at me sternly like one octopus with 1000 glass eyes. At lastly I find one pompus bay window what set over front door presenting swelled appearance peculiar to Presidents. I look thoughtfully upwards and make philosophy by myself. “Window-wash are like Success,” I commute. “It are most pleasant to begin at the top and work downward. Therefore I shall begin by soaping this important outlook.”