Casper Daily Tribune Newspaper, January 7, 1922, Page 9

i Buta fect the res. i : : i i } ty hoy t i i t i bedn’t heard from her for Gays, and even then she hadn’t eald when This was “No, I expect she didn't” mld Flor ment proved ence. “Mr, Dill, I was goin’ to: ask over it guve you somep’n—dt’s kind ‘king know of the ot for me to j i i i ; i i ip 5 | | Hi | | k Tr i t i ali i i 278 i be i F . Lh twenty-two, his only kind of « funny question for me to ask, distinction. He was kind,/ IT de you like poetry?” and not unpleasant In appesr sad attire; yet he had neither as things have. turmd- out nor that look of power which guess it's kind of a founy to joggle women from thelr Mr. Dill; but do you like poise, He was most every town ge I : Si RE KE i na 4 Was Nothing About Julla in it. ike “No, I don't.” bome to lunch, He read it without lightly te the gate, hurried and join ied him. NEws OF Taw errr “The Candidates for mayor at the thers, mothers, nurses, election are ~ P. N, Gordon and Geadeers nat Caotahbnaig Oey tote Jobn T. Milo. The contest is very mental deafness is for the time being | rest betweem these candidates, entirely genuine, are lable to hoarse- "} = ness both of throat and temper, Thir-| “Holcombs chickens get in MR. Jo- teen is an age When the fading of this | seph Atwater’s yard a god deal lately. He says ch’ckens are out of place in Vetere apd lation went. “Td just Ure to see you!” she re turned, her eyes fieshing. “Just you a ing Just.as well keep together.” Noble looked puzzled. stress of discipline; but Florence re- “Minnie the cook of MR. FP. L. tained something of !t. In a moment | Smith's residisence goes downtown ev- or two Noble Dill’s disaffection toward | ery Thrusday afts about three her reg- poetry was altogether as if {t did not | ular day for it, exist. — She coughed, inclined her head a “A new ditch is being dug across Utele to one sifs, {n her mother’s| the MR. Henry D, Vance backyrad. manner of politeness to callers, and, | ‘Tis about dug but nobody ts repeating her deprecatory laugh, re-{ ‘here now, Patty Fairchild recelved marked, “Well, of course {t’s kind of | ‘he highest mark in declamation of the a funny question for me to ask, of | 7A at Sumner School Isst Friday. course.” “What ts, Florence?” Noble inquired | “Balf's groreey wagon ran over a absently. cet of the Mr, Rayfort family. Geo. “Well—what I was saying was that | tbe driver of the wagon stated he ‘course it’s gort of queer me askin’ | fad not but was willing to take it if you liked poetry, of course, on ac- | away and burg it somewheres Geo. count of my writing poetry the way I | stated regret and claimed nothing but do now.” an/accident which could nct de helped , She looked up at-him with a bright | 204 not “his team that did the dam- readiness to rennet modestly to | 8s. ~| whatever ‘exclamation his wonder : i* should dictate; but. Noble’s attention | “Miss Colfleld teacher of the 7 A had straggled agnin, He failed to | 8t Sumner School was reported on the comprehend what she had set before | *!ck list. We hope she will soon be him. v5 well, “Has she, written your mother late- ly? he asked. » Florence's: mental condition here. I'm gotn’ straight over to your mother and ask her to come and get Florence gave up. “What differ ence would that make, Mister Taddle- -R rs | “There were several deaths in the denoted n | city this week. Pde abyat “Wo,” she enid. “It’s goin’ to be | “MAL Fatrehfid father of Patty ft” said her have printed in the No-th End Daily Ort. | Sairchild was on the sick list several 5 4 F days and did not 1s out now, ole.” “What” g ag i z i i i i Noble Leoked Puzzled, “Surprising to ting you anything to do oe Geo Mei” ste: Sald Vaquely, “My poem. Its about ¢ vast amen | peppy a8 They must ve - “Ben Kriso uffeur of the renee ring _ t tt n tn. per. —anyhow that’s prob’ly the best thing i I tm it, I guess—and they're goin’ to | Mr. B, G. Atwater family washes their heve it tomorrew, or else they'll have | C@F 00 Monday, In using the hose he ty settle with me; that’s one thing | ‘Urned water over the fence accident- certain! I'l) bring one over to your | '¥ ‘A bit “onnle the was WOman Be if Bg BR ; i Ey ; i Fe a 3 ie tely bce ance. bed Set. 8 a rest ets haa eruine house and leayo It at the door for| tn. back of MRS. Bruffs who called he professed himself | home?" FOO, Mr. DAL! him some low names. Ben told her if ‘well as | “Aunt Julia? Why, she’s out ef} Nobie had but a confused notion| She had been a man he would strike ce of the i ef what ehe thus generally promised. | ¢r but soon the distrubance was at town,” enid Florence. “She's visiting @iifferent. people she used to know ‘when she wes away at school.” “Yes, I know,” Mr, Dill returned. “She's been gone six weeks.” “Oh, I don’t believe it's that long,” Florence sald, casually; then with more earnestness: “Mr. Dill, I was goin’ to ask you somep’m; it's kind of However, he said, “Thank you,” onend. There is a good deal more of nodded ‘vaguely. other news which will ba printed in “Of course, I don't know as {t's so} CUr next NO,” awful good,” Florence admitted tnsin- i cerely. “The family all seem to think it’s something pretty much; but I don't know if it !s or not, Really, I don’t!” “No,” said Noble, still confused, “I end rhe — | ACvertivements & Posms 2 Cents Each Up. g ey i i : ae JOSEPH K. ATWATZR & CQ. a funny question for me to ask, but—" 127 Bouth Iowm Bt, on thelr “Yes, she has,” Noble interrupted, Bteem Pumps, futile, 2nd} though not sensible that his remark : d| was on interruption, for he had been Seer i > unaware of Florence’s voice tn action THE ORGANSTEP after the word “long.” “Oh, yes, she ed the di tory littl By Florence Atwater, her} has,” he said. “It was stx weeks, day- + ee te dante ae Defore-yesterday afternoon, I saw laugh. “I don’t know how I do it, picatee, wane ented at his organ your father downtown this morning, and he saftl he didn't know that any of whe family had heard just whon she When the eof ts Was coming home, I thought maybe And the mind ts dreary, eome of your relatives had @ letter Boni Gece Mga from her by this afternoon's mail, Whether my Setpztim ight be Tairchefot guess not," said Florence, “Mr. Iwould Iike @ vast amen oat fuses ce a Lorie meee se sre 5 siete , Subscribe NOW genta Adv inartes, tion for me Newspaper Bulliing 3 centa per year, wrote poetry “Are you i soe re Aunt Such, as is sometimes said, was the ba: % H first issue, complete, of the North End Dally Oriole, Florence was not im- mediately critical of some distortions of meaning in the body of her poem, due partly to Atwater & Rooter’s nat- ural lack of experience in « new and exacting trade; partly to their enviable unconsclonsness of any necessity for proofreading; gud somewhat to their haste {n getting through the final, and least interesting stage of their under- Florence's poem being, in fact, as the printers were concerned, mere hack work and anti-climax. And as they Inter declared. uniter re ie 6 a poem to save my Ife, I never could see how they do It," Florence laughed, made a Crceniey Uttle side j He sighed, end opened the gate. “Well, good evening, Florence.” ‘Good evening.” Her eyes followed: Tae g Fa over her shoulder, “I'll leave it with your mother for you, -if you're not home when I bring !t.” ‘initio’ ‘Min “What?” he shouted, from the vi-| so far 5 trom one of the places | cinity of his tront door. where Aust Julle'e visting her school “I'l leave. {t wlth Your mother.” i ae a Pa va MEK__ EG A Ses SS ne > > their margin, Dever knew anything crazier then makin’ all this fuse becnuse: What tf some of it wasn't printed just ex- sctly right, who in the world was goin’ to notice it, snd what was the dit something wvming at last into Its own; an¢, she had hurried came calm enough (fer a moment or m0) to look over the poem with at- tention to deta’ls. She returned bas tily to the newspaper building, but would have been wiser to remain away, since all subscribers had re- ceived their copies by the time she got there; and under the circumstances Uttle reparation was practicable. She ended her oration—or professed to end it—by declaring that she would never have another poem in thetr ole vile newspaper as long as she lived. “You're right about that,” Henry Rooter agreed heartily. “We wouldn't let another one in it Not for ffty dollars{ Just look at all the trouble we took molling and tolling to get your ole poem printed es nics as we could, so {t wouldn't ruin our newspa- per, and then you comin’ over here and goin’ on this way, and all this and that, why, I wouldn't go through it again for a hundred dollaca, We're makin’ good money anyhow, with our nevizpaper, Florence Atwater. You needn't think we depend on you for our living!” “That's so,” his partner declared “We knew you wouldn't be satisfied anyway, Florence. Didn't. we, Henry?" “I should say we didi” “Yes, sir!" said Herbert. “Right when we vere havin’ the worst time tryin’ to print it and make ont some o@ the words, I sald right then, we were just throwing away our time, I sald, ‘What's the use? That ole girl's bound to raise Cain anyhow, so what's the use wastin’ a whole lot of our good time and brains like this, Just to suit her? Whatever we do, she's cer tain to come over hore and Insult us.’ Isn't thet what I sald, Henry?” “Yes, it is; and I eaid then you were right, and you are right!” “Cert’nly I am,” said Herbert. “Didn't I tell you she'd be just the way some of the family say she is? A good many of ‘em say she'd find fault with the undertaker at her own funeral. That's just exactly what I said!” ‘ “Oh, you did?” Florence buriesqued a polite interest. “How virry consid erate of youl Then, perhaps you'll try to be a gentleman enough for one simple moment to allow me to tell you my Inst remarks on this subject. Tve said enough—" “Oh, have you?” Herbert tn ed with violent sarcasm. “Ob, nol Say not sol Florence, say not sol” At this, Henry Rooter loudly shout- ed with applausive hilarity; where upon Herbert, rather surprised at his owa effectiveness, naturally repeated his mot. “Bay not so, Florence! Bay not sol Say not sol” “Tl tell you one thing!” his lady cousin cried, thoroughly infuriated. “I wish to make just one last simple remark that I would Gare to soll my- wef with tn your respects, Mister Her bert Miingsworth Atwater end Mister Henry Rooter!" “Ob, say not so, Florence!” they both entreated. “Say not sol Bay not so!” “Tl just simply state the simple truth,” Fivrence announced., “In the frst place you're goin’ to live to see the day when you'll come and beg me on your bented knees to have me put poems or anything I wunt to on your ole newspaper, but Ill just laugh at you! ‘Indeed?, Tl say! ‘So you come beggin’ around me, do you? Ha, hal’ rll say—T guess it's a little too late for that! Why I wouldn't—” “Oh, say net so, Florence! Say not sol" ’ “‘Mfe allow you to Have one of my poems? I'll say, “Much less than that!’ Tl say, ‘because even if I was wear ing the oldest shoes I got in the world I wouldn't take the trouble to” Her conclusion was drowned ont, “Oh, Florence, say not so! Say not 80, Florence! Say not soi” The heteful entreaty still murmnred im her resentful ears that night, as she fell asleep; and she passed into the beginnings of a dream with her Nps slightly dimpling the surface of her pillow in belated repartee. And upon waking, though it was Sunday, her first words, hal? slumbrous in the silence of the morning, were, “Vile things!" Her faculties became more alert, during ‘the preparation of a toilet which was to serve not only for breakfast, but with the addition of gloves, a hat, and a blue velvet coat, for church and Sunday school as well; and she planned a hundred ven- geances, That !s to say, her minG did not occupy itself with plots pos- sibly to make real; rather It dabbled among those fragmentary visions that love ~v overlap and displace one an- other In the shifty retina of the minds eye. But in all of these pictures, where- > 4 he ~——. eS batt am im prevaiiingty sne seemed some sort of deathly powerful Queen of Poetry, the postures assumed by the figrres of Messrs. Atwater and Hooter both fm an extremity of rags) were miser ably suppliant. So she soothed her self a little—dut not long. Herbert in the next pew In church, and Henry tn the next beyond that, were perfect compositions in smugness. They were cold, contented, aristocratic; and had an imperturbable understanding be tween themselves—quite perceptible to the sensitive Florence—that she was a nulsance now capably disposed of by thelr beautiful discovery of “Say not sol” Florence's feelings were ur- becoming to the place and occasion. But at *<<x o'clock that afternoon she y~* assuagec Into a milder con- ditties >» the arrival, according to an agreemént made tn Sunday schom, of the populer Miss Patty Fairchild. Patty was thivteen and a half; an exquisite person with gold-dusted hair, eyes of perfect blue, and an al- turing alr of sweet self-consciousness. Henry Rooter and Herbert Mlings- worth Atwater, Jr. out gathering news, ssw her entering Florence’s gate, and tmmediately forgot that they were reporters. ._ They become si- lent and gradually moved toward the house of their newspaper's sole poetess, Florence and Patty occupied them- selves indoors for half an hour; th went out into the yard to a mole’s tunnel that had interested Flor ence recently. They followed {t across the lawn at the south side of the house, Gigcassing the habits of moles and other matters of soology; and finally fost the track near the fence, which was here the “back fence,” higher than thelr heads. Patty looked through a knothole to see tf tir tun- nel was visible in the next yard, but without reporting upon hor observa- tions she turned, as [f carelessly, and leaned back against the fence, cover- ing the knothole. “Florence,” she said, tn a tone soft- er and loveliler fian she had been using heretofore— “Florence, do you know what I think?” “No. Could yon see any more tracks over there?” “Florence,” said Patty—“I was just going to tell you someth‘ig—only may- be I better not.” “Why not?” Florence inquired. “Go on and tell me.” “No,” said Patty, gently. might think it was silly.” “No, I won't.” “Yes, you might” “I promise I won't.” “Well, then—oh, Florence, I'm sure you'll think {t's silly!” “TY promised I wouldn't.” “Well—I don’t think I better say Li ted “Go on.” Florence urged “Patty, you. got to.” “Well, then, ff I got to,” said Patty. “What I was going to say, Florence: Don't you think your cousin Herbert and Henry Rooter have got the nicest eyes of any boy in town?” “Who?” Florence was staggered. “I do,” Patty said in her charming votce. “I think Herbert and Henry've “You got the nicest eyes of any boy in | town.” + “You do?” Florence erled incred- ulously. “Yes, I really do, Florence. I think Herbert Atwater and Henry Rooter bave got just the nicest eyes of any boy In town.” “Well, I never heard anything like this before!” Florence decinred. “But don’t yen think they've got the nicest eyes of any boy in town?” Pat- ty insisted, appealingly. “T think,” said Florence, “Thetr eyes are just borrable!” “What?” “Herbert's eyes," continued Flor ence ardently, “are the very worst lookin’ ole squinty eyes I ever saw, and that nasty Uttle Henry Rooters eyea—”" But Patty suddenly became fidgety; she burried away from the fence. “Come over here, Florence,” she suid. “Let's go over to the other side of the yard and talk,” And it was time for her to take some such action if she wished to show any tact, Messrs, Atwater and Rooter, seated quietly together upon a box on the other side of the fence (thoygh with their backs to the knot- hole) were beginning to show signs of inward disturbance, Already fiushed with unexpected ineffabilities, their complexions had grown even pinker upon Florence's open-hearted expres- sions of opinion. Slowly they turned thelr heads to look sternly et the fence, upon the other side of which stood the maligner of thelr eyes. Not that they cared what that ole girl thought—but she oughtn't to be al- lowed to go around talking iike this and perhaps prejudicing everybody that had a word to say for them “Come on over here, Florence,” called Patty husktly, from the other side of the yard. “Let's talk over here.” Florence was puzzled, but consent- ed. “What you ‘want to talk over here for?” sho asked. “Oh, I don’t know,” said Patty. “Let's go out in the front yard.” She led the way around the house, and a moment later uttered a cry of surprise as the firm of Atwater & Rooter, passing along the pavement, hesitated at the gate. Their celebrat- ed eyes showed some doubt for a mo ment, then a brazenness; Herbert and Henry decided to come in. “Isn't this the funniest thing?” cried Patty. “After what I just a while ago—you know, Fiorence. Don't you dare to tell ‘em,” “I cert'nly won't!” her hostess promised, and, turning Inhospitably to the two callers, “What on earth you want ‘round here?” she inquired. sierbert chivalrously took the duty of response upon himself “Look here; this is my own eunt end ancie’s yard, isn't t? If I want to come fn It, I got a perfect right to” “I should say so,” bis partner sald y, of course !™ the cordial Patty “We can pl 4 or something, on the porch steps and think what to do.” “I just as soon,” said Henry Rooter. “I got nothin’ p’ticular to do.” “T haven't, ether,” sald Herbert. Th upon, Patty sat between them on the steps “This is per-fickly grand!” she cried. “Come on, Flor- ence, aren't you going to sit down with all the rest of us?’ “Well, pray kindly excuse me! seid Miss Atwater; and she added that she would neither sit on the same steps with Herbert -Atwater and Henry Rooter, nor, even tf they en- treated her with accompanying gena- flections, would she have anything else whatever to do with them. She with- @tew to the railing of the porch at @ point farthest from the steps, and, seated there, swung one foot rhythmic ally and sang hymns tn a tone at once plaintive and intmical. It was not lost upon her, however, that her withdrawal had little de- It Was Not Lest Upon Her, However, ‘That Her Withdrawal Had Little Depressing Effect Upon Her Guests. pressing effect upon her guests. They chattered gaily and Patty devised, or remembered, harmless little grmes which could be ptayed by a few peo ple &s well as by many; and the three participants were so congenial and nolsy and made so merry that, before long, Florence was unable to avoid the Impression that, whether she liked It or not, she was giving quite a party. At times the noted eyes of Atwater & Rooter were gentled o'er with the soft cast of enchantment, especially when Patty f«lt called upon to reprove the two with ttle coquetries of sinps and pushes. Noted for her sprightli- ness, she was never sprightller; her pretty laughter tooted continnously and the gentlemen accompanied with doting sounds so repulsive to Florence that without being actively conscious of what she Cid, she embodied the phrase, “perfectly sickening” in the hymn she was crooning, and repeated It over and over to the air of “Rock of Ages.” “Now I tell yeu what let’s play,” the versatile Patty proposed, after ex- hausting the pleasures of “Geog. raphy,” “Ghosts,” and other tests of intellect, “Let's play ‘Truth! We'll each take a paper and a pencil, and then each of us asks the other one some question, and we haf to write down the answer and sisn your name and fold it up so nobody can see it ex- cept that one, and we haf to keep it ® secret and never tell as long es wo live.” “All right," said Henry Rooter. “T'll be the one to ask you a question, Patty." “No,” Herbert said promptly. ought to be the one to ask Patty.” “Why ought you?” Henry demanded. “Why onght you?” “Listen !" Patty cried, “I know the way we'll do, I'll ask each of you & question—we haf to whisper it—and each one of you'll ask me one, and then we'll write it. That'll be simply grand!” she clapped her hands; then checked herself. “Oh, I guess we can't, either, We haven't got any pa- per and pencils unless—” Here she Seersed to recall her hostess. “Oh, Florrie, dear! Run in the house and get us some paper and pencils.” Florence gave no sign other than to increase the loudness of her voice as she sang. “Perf'ly sick’ning, clef" for me, let me perf'ly sick-kin-ning!” “We got plenty,”,said Herbert, as he and Henry produced pencils and thelr professional notebooks, and eup- DPiled, their fair friend and themselves with material for “Truth.” “Come on, Patty, whisper me whatever you want to.” x “No; I ought to have her whisper me first," Henry Rooter objected. “I'll write the answer to any question; I don't care what it's about.” “Well, it’s got to be the truth, you tow,” Patty warned them. “We all haf to write idown just exackly the truth on onr word of honor and sign our name. Promise?” “All right,” said Patty. “Now Itt whisper Henry a question first, and then you can whisper yours to me first, Herbert.” {To be Continued) lb: Sica a T ‘Women pass through mental stages at the ages of 23, 35 and 45, OW Ju a EF sh >> 7. ss ne RS i—¥ ae pS ESS eS