MR. S M E E T H IS W 0 R R I ED 447

Mr. Snieeth nodded grimly and tightened his lips
"There'll have to be something said about this, Edna.
When I agreed to let you go and learn this millinery
business, I didn't agree to let you go to the pictures
every night in the week too."

"I don't go every night, and you know very well I
don't, Dad. Some weeks I only go once."

"It's a funny thing I never seem to notice those
weeks," said Mr. Smeeth, with fine irony. It would have
been still finer irony if he had stopped to consider that
it really was not funny at all but quite natural. "But
apart from the waste of money, I don't like all this
picture-going. Doing you no good at all. Doing you
harm. I don't object to a girl having her amusement/*
he continued, dropping into that noble broad-minded
tone of voice that all parents, schoolmasters, clergymen,
and other public moralists have at their command. "I
go to the pictures now and again myself. But going to
the pictures now and again's one thing, and living for
pictures is another thing altogether. Teaches you
nothing but silliness. Get false ideas into your head.
Why don't you settle down with a book?" He held out
his own book, "Do a bit of quiet reading. Amuse your-
self and learn something about the world at the same
time. Take this book I'm reading, f r'instance—My
Singing Years, by Madame Regina Sarisbury—this is a
book that tells you something worth knowing, all about
the—er—musical career."

*1 read a book last week," Edna announced.

"Yes, and been to the pictures three times since then."
said her father, who was determined to have his griev-
ance. "Too much going out and amusing yourself
altogether, my girl Why, you're worse than George was