And they were read and discussed on the emporium's platform, and some were answered in non-committal style so as to draw out further correspondence, and all in all it was voted by both "Plugs" that a small amount of money invested in advertising certainly did produce its full worth of entertainment.
But in the midst of these innocent attempts to alleviate _ennui_ something else came along beside letters. It was a woman-a slim, wiry, alert woman.
She clambered down from the stage one day, advanced trippingly to the platform and courtesied low before the two plug hats, her long, draggly plume bobbing against her rouged cheek. The two plug hats arose and were doffed. Then the three faced each other.
"You don't hold your ages as well as I do, boys," she commented, after her sharp scrutiny.
"It's the old army game, gents!" screamed the parrot, excited by this new arrival, gay with her colors and her ribbons.
"It's Her!" gasped Plug Avery.
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