The Dear Little Four-flusher

The DEAR LITTLE FOUR-FLUSHER
By
Harold Titus
SADIE DEERE'S rather tired blue eyes took in the first line of the new placard on the Welfare Department's bulletin board as she entered the rest room for Hindelbaum's lady employees, and the query caught her attention with a nip.
It was:
“What About Your Vacation?”
Sadie Deere forgot the languor that the first enervating warmth of spring had set in her slim young body. She crossed the room briskly and read:

“Young men and women on vacations can find delightful employment during July and early August in the cool, fruit laden orchards of the Grand Traverse Region. Cherry pickers combine work with play, enjoy the pleasures of summer resorting, and turn their spare time to profit. Address, Grand Traverse Fruit Exchange, Traverse City, Michigan.”

When, after reading slowly three times, Sadie stood before the mirror, patting into firmness the discs of black hair at her temples, here yes, not quite so tired, stared at the reflection of a small, white face which was lighted with an extraordinary interest. That expression grew through the moment she stood there, developing from interest to anticipation, then to an enthusiasm which spread

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