PEGGY-IN-THE-RAIN
not to be seated together at the table, although they met in public without open hostilities.
Miss Morrill was a very handsome girl, tall, finely built, a good horsewoman and the only child of Anderson Morrill, whose Morrill's Magic Malt, handed down to him by his father, has been a household word—and a household necessity—for sixty years. "Old Magic" Morrill they had called Leona's grandfather back in Utica, since on all his preparations for restoring and preserving the health of humanity the word magic had featured. But the Magic Malt was the only one of the long list which had survived the test of time—and the Pure Food and Drugs Act. Whether there was aught of the magic about his medicines and cure-alls, it must be acknowledged that there was something closely akin to magic in the manner in which the astute old Yankee had accumulated wealth. Anderson Morrill retained a controlling stock in the business, but did not soil his hands with it. Nor, you may be sure, did he serve Morrill's Magic Malt as an appetizer at his dinners, although that excellent concoction contained ingredients not out of place in an appetizer. Anderson Morrill held true to the prin-
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