124 TROTTYS WEDDING TOUR.

Aunt Banger laid the Bazar across her sharp knees, and
sharply ran her sharp forefinger over the cream-faced lady.

“ A candy-pull!”? Rye suggested, trying to laugh; but she
felt more like crying. Trim had said that ruffles were “ the
thing” (this was last spring), and Trim always knew what
was the “ thing” better than Aunt Banger.

There were ruffles enough on the creamy lady. Ruffles on
the bottom of the skirt, ruffles on the middle of the skirt;
ruffles, in fact, all over the skirt; ruffles on the sack,
around the edge, up the back, across the sleeves, up the front,
around the collar; a ruffle (in another plate, but the same
unfortunate lady, in the same unfortunate suit, for her sack
lay ruffling the sofa) on the waist of the dress, on the sleeves
of the dress, on the sash of the dress, —

“ Rufiles, ruffles everywhere.” :

“ Or you might take off the upper two, and make a double
skirt, — with a ruffle,” observed Trim, sweetly, by way of
improvement. “7

“ Now, girls!” repeated Aunt Banger, “it isn’t pretty!
Tt isn’t, really. Not a bit of it.” She turned over the leaves
of the fashion-books in her quick, relentless way. “There
are n’t three dresses here I would n’t be ashamed to be seen
in, — no, not even if I were Rye. What with your frills, and
your perks, and your peaks, and your odds, and your ends,
and your streamers, you 1870 girls look more like a little set
of poll-parrots at a monkey-show ” (Aunt Banger was in too
much of a hurry to attend to the remarkable zodlogical con-