that Special — all black! Finding I suppose a smile lurking 
somewhere in my countenance, he rewarded me with a flash of 
white teeth and joined in the search. Finally came Sewickley. 
Did passengers ever alight into a stranger barrage of 
numeral fire! "Five." "Eight." "Six" was hurled upon us 
in every imaginable tone of voice, from out the semi-darkness. 
"Steady," I said to myself, "Don't forget you're Number 12." 
Chauffeurs, husbands, charming young things sent by their 
mothers, all excitedly trying to find and claim their unknown 
guests, while the guests' attention was for the moment centered 
solely upon the subject of black bags. I and another "12" were 
soon discovered and led away toward the waiting motor. Across 
our path darted despairing individuals who inquired 'anxiously 
or frantically — according to their temperaments — "Is 8 here?" 
or "Has anyone seen a lost 21?" A wild-eyed but courteous 
gentleman waylaid me, "Excuse me, 41?" he asked politely. 
"No, 42 last spring," I laughed. "I'm sorry," he replied 
vacantly, sweeping the crowd with a bewildered stare. "Not 
as sorry as I am," I answered and sped on to join my clan. 
And when I found them, what emotions stirred the heart, for 
here was the final denoument of the situation — the complete 
family of twelves! The host and hostess 12, the chauffeur and 
car 12, the guests and their bags 12 ! Beamingly, one felt as one 
feels when the solitaire ' ' works out ' '—without cheating ; or as 
we used to feel back in the arithmetic days when the example 
' ' proved. ' ' 
Congratulations, Garden Club of Allegheny County! It 
was all so admirably done and so diverting ! 
Hally Carrington Brent. 
The Pittsburgh Meeting 
Thursday and Friday 
Mrs. After our thrilling adventures at the Sewickley station on 
Williams Wednesday night when the State Constabulary and the Fire 
Garden Department were called out to help extricate our luggage, we re- 
assembled on Thursday morning at the old Manor House of the 
Shields family which Mrs. HaLsey Williams has had the good 
fortune to inherit. A fine old mansion it is, set in spacious 
grounds among tall Elm trees, with its old-time garden most 
carefully restored to its original state. Graceful cast-iron grills 
frame the south porch, and filled, us all with envy. The old 
spring-house refreshed us, and the choice family portraits by 
Romney delighted us, for we felt we were seeing the best type 
of patriarchal home of the early settlers of Pennsylvania. In 
the garden the borders of clipped Southernwood, Artemisia, re- 
minded us of England. 
We commented on the profusion of Rambler Roses on the 
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