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by Samuel Hopkins Adams
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Average Jones had come by his nickname inevitably. His parents had foredoomed him to it when they furnished him with the initials A. V. R. E. as preface to his birthright of J for Jones.
There's been no quarrel. We're as much engaged now as ever, in spite of the return of the ring. It's only her infern--her deep-rooted superstition that's caused this trouble. One can't blame her; her father and mother were both killed in an accident after some sort of 'ghostly warning.' The first thing I gave her, after our engagement, was a necklace of these stones--he tapped his scarf pin--"that I'd selected, one by one, myself. They're beautiful, as you see, but they're not particularly valuable; only semiprecious.
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