Nattie laughed.
"And this Miss Archer. Did you say she was a prima donna?" she questioned.
"Yes—that is, a sort of a kind of a one, or going to be, or some way musical or theatrical, you know," was Quimby's lucid reply. "I'll make it a point to—to introduce you if you will allow me that pleasure?"
"Certainly," responded Nattie, and added, "I shall be quite rich, for me, in acquaintances soon, if I continue as I have begun. I made a new one on the wire to-day."
"On the—I beg pardon—on the what?" asked Quimby, with visions of tight-ropes flashing through his mind.
"On the wire," repeated Nattie, to whom the phrase was so common, that it never occurred to her as needing any explanation.
"Oh!" said the puzzled Quimby, not at all comprehending, but unwilling to confess his ignorance.
"The worst of it is, I don't know the sex of my new friend, which makes it a little awkward," continued Nattie.
Quimby stared.
"Don't—I beg pardon—don't know her—his—sex?" he repeated, with wide-open eyes.
"No, it was on the wire, you know!" again ex
