cold. Anything else?" he added. "We have an unusually fine pair of sweetbreads to-day. Some chops for lunch?"
Mrs. Larry was doing mental arithmetic. Claire had been using her pencil. "Two-thirty-two— That's thirty cents a pound."
"What cut is that?" Mrs. Larry asked, with a fine assumption of firmness and indicating the rolled roast, which Jud had tossed into the basket, as if the sale were made.
"That?" echoed the wondering cutter. "That's a Delmonico roast—fancy."
"Haven't you—haven't you a third or fourth rib roast, something cheaper than this?"
"Well, of course, I can give you any cut you want," said the amazed attendant, accustomed to filling unqualified telephone orders. "But I'd advise you to take this—no waste."
Mrs. Larry looked up from her quotations.
"The second cut is only twenty-one cents a pound, to-day. I'll take that."
"Certainly," acquiesced Jud; "but you won't find much saving in that piece, what with bones and tailings." He had flung another roast, un-
