Leaving her home for the morning automobile ride, one of the first spots of interest Our Mutual Girl saw was the famous Flatiron Building, only eight feet wide at the point of its triangular base and eighty-eight feet wide at the rear. Margaret’s aunt gave her some interesting particulars about the structure as they passed it. Soon Our Mutual Girl arrived at Lord & Taylor’s, the newest and most pretentious of the Fifth Avenue shops. There she saw the exhibition of spring gowns displayed by the store’s living models. Margaret could not but wonder at the number and beauty of the gowns shown. From there Our Mutual Girl took an auto ride through the crowded East Side, always of interest to her. She noticed a young girl, evidently poor, playing a violin in the street and impetuously leaped from the auto. Margaret talked to the little girl and found she was ambitious, but poverty-stricken. “We are so poor,” said the girl, “can’t you help us?” Our Mutual Girl bundled the little stranger into the automobile, took her home and gave her a new dress. Then Margaret took her to the office of Walter Damrosch, America’s most famous conductor-composer. Mr. Damrosch received the little girl kindly and tried the piece of music she had written. “The music in itself is worthless,” he told Our Mutual Girl, “but it gives evidence of talent. She shall have a scholarship in the Institute of Music. Here is a letter of introduction which will suffice.” That night Margaret dreamed of her days when, as a little country girl on the farm, she played the old melodeon while her mother smoothed her hair.