Lakeland Evening Telegram Newspaper, May 12, 1913, Page 7

e — at the soung of thought he pecqo of the roadst He went Wa Just what ¢l ¢ ;xr l}nd old him to take the long road. Idr':‘-‘“]“m cm:M} tand it to see him [ STV U to the big summer hotel with 81abs and the ooy in his brown jeans and high boos, £he would take the long road for | With him that way, , There woulq | retense, no com: I :;or:!:: would take him just as '1\\ hen he reacheq the bend, the long “hx[]‘e“.clrlv.\. Verandas came In view, b Vhite 1¢¥8, and many ga- vles. A larg, ice had been cleared lpdth'.x i of the mountain- ::.lu nv k ng site for the ho- ! ot tver seen this sinee 8 Now he surveyed ft ! with Caln rested eyes, its golf course "N to Peck’s brook, {ts 05 that cut up the fore- 'd tennis courts, ap Evalora's even @ horn. Once he zed Evalora in one N THE LONG ROAD e Was Rough, but of Her Own Peopls, Not Like the Other Kind. ers By LOUISE MARRIFIELD, “pid ye ask Evalora?” H oliver looked down at the white over springing up through the chips front of the sawmill, and marked tterns with the butt of his ox goad. “Not directly, but she knows what mean all vight, Mr. Kinnecott.” “What do ye mean, to put aight?” 0ld ~teve Kinnecott shot a shrewd :nce irom the golden shadows of the ill the big overgrown younpster s ho'r was tawny yellow and necded i His face and neck looked dmost a brick red under his nmed flopping straw hat. e stood the yoke of vxen, with owered heads and itching ite hed come down afier o loud from the hill farm s a mighty good propositior ! farm. Steve knew the valye every acre on it, and its rich wood ts. Iovalora could do a sight worse, t would she think so? Since she d had the school training down at ecounty seat, she had different ideas ould the hill farm and her old She chir sn it 'ned up the She was itt] with veranda looked r-bed to him, with vomen and young i but he 1d pick our And he he v oy call out: “Oh, look at the oxen!" Everyhody looked at the oxen, and rzlu their boyish driver. He stopped ¢ i at the turn of the drive and waited, eetheart appeal to her as love's ful. looking up at Evalora Would she take ment | the challenge, and 1 just mean | want her to marry them ayy - O (O bim before , oir.” sald Oliver, a bit throatlly. | Jyst then a cor made t Then I tell you what, boy.” Oid ! at the bend in the romuh:o::".‘;;";: e's gray eyes twinkled. He shuf- | heard the cries of warnin'(. Now d torward into the wide arched en- Evalora had risen, and was running nce to the mill, and blinked at the down the steps towards himn. He lifted llkht like some mole. “You take | his hat to greet her Jjust as the car long way home this trip. 1 lln‘t] struck the heavy wood wagon broad- a mite of objections to you if you| sides. It swung about, tangled up with p get her.” the terrified, backing animals, and the he long way home! Oliver curled | boy went down in the wreckage. whip out to the oxen, and took “Of course, it was my fault. ['ll pay p steep hill road. He knew what her] for him here at the hotel.” her meant. She was up at the big; Evalora looked up at the owner of el teaching some children in one of | the car. She knew him. Every day P rich city families. He had seen | of her stay at the hotel he had done only at church in the valley on his best to muke her appreciate the Indays, only caught a few words with | value of his very existence. He was In the shadow of the pillared porch | young and from a good-sized town in rwards. And it had been'a whole the middle of the sate. He spent r since he had kissed her goodby | money freely. He had been far too ‘0 under the pines. He wondered | generous in his offers of motor drives, he remembered. Not that she had | she had thought, to the little country pmised anything; but sometimes he | governess of his sister's children. But J almost kept the memory of her | In his way, she knew he tried to be, as a promise. as he would have said, on the level. t was two miles and a half up to the | He did admire her frankly, and took el. Lelsurely he walked it, with | the obly way he knew of letting her slow-golng oxen and a load of rust | know it. ored cedar slabs. Several times he | Now he stood looking down at her, had to stop and turn to one su;e:tho center of the gathered crowd jls glat It v at | tily ¢l4q - down the road valora. | ' THE EVENING TELEGRAM, LAKELAND, FLA., MAY 12, 1013, around the ox driver on the grounad. He felt snubbed and bothered, seelng . that rough head on the girl's dainty white linen skirt, watching her stop the flow of blood on his head with her silk scarf. It was all right to be hu- fmane; but she needn't make herself conspicuous, and his own anatomy felt fairly well parred from the accident, quite enough to demand sympathy. “I don’t think he would want to go to the hotel, Mr. Dixon,” said Evalora, flushing slightly, but speaking as old Steve's daughter should. “He's an old friend of ours, and a neighbor’s boy. 1 wish you would plase take him home for me, and some one look after the oxen. Then you can settle with him yourself for the wagon and slabs.” “Well, if you say so, Miss Kinne cott—" “I do say so. leok after him.” It was a strange drive over the long road. Tom Dixon at the wheel, and Evalora looking after the unconscious youngster. Once she directed him to turn and make for a doctor's house They with them up to Oliver's farm. ‘Anytl more 1 can do?” isked, aiter he had waited for the doe- ui's verdiet, and leit a check that cov- cred the dumg ‘an 1 drive you Miss K 4 alora steod at the kitchen door. her the double hollyhocks grew as tall us herself, It seemed as if they turned their ruby hearts to her in wel- come. Her hair was rumpled and wavy, her cheeks flushed, her sleeves rolled high to the elbow. “I «don't think I'd better go back, thanks,” she said, happily. “If you take the doctor with you, and stop at the sawmill and tell father what's hap- pened, he’ll come up and help, too.” “I don’t think it's necessary, all this fuss. He's all right now,” said Tom, sulkily “I know,” Evalora returned, shyly, “but you see, he's our own folks, and we like to look after him.” She waited until the buzz and hum of the motor had died away far down the hill road before she went back to the couch where they had put Oliver. He was bandaged until he looked like a turbanned Hindoo, but he smiled up at her. i “I heard what you lora.” “Well, that's just what father'd say, isn't 1t?” She pulled a blue shade down to keep -ff the late afternoon sunlight. “Sit down here,” said Oliver. “I want to tell you why I went up there today on the long road.” Evalora said nothing. She took the low rocker beside him and fingered the pleced courthouse steps quilt on the bed. There were some pieces of her dresses there when she had waited for Ollver down at the sawmill on the way to school. I'm going with you to Liek told him, Eva- took him ulong; Tom | i little tin lunch pail those days. Some- times they had stopped at the bars | lower down, and “peeked” {inside to see what surprise her mother had slipped in, a berry turnover or a dough- nut with jelly inside. She shared her treasures with him then. Then had come her schooling, first at the high school in a nearby town, and later up at Normal. She had slipped out of his reach for a little while. It had been this summer at the ‘ big hotel that had taught her where life ran in sweetest places, and she had tired of all the shams and petty battles of that daily round. Life was what one made it, and the makings lay in one's own heart, as Oliver would have put it. She could have her books and music up at the hill farm, with peace and plenty and—him. “I know why you came,” she whis- { pered, “just to get me.” J “Would you have come along if I, hadn’t got all smashed up?’ There was a whimsical touch of longing iIn his tone. *“Would you, girl?” He reached out one arm towards her, nnd? drew her to him. “It's a rough road | to travel, the long one, but I'm just! starved for vou Evalora. [ know 1| ain't the sort of fc'ow you ought to! marry, but—" | pressed firmly overl | | Her hand was | his lips. { "l don't like the other | satd. softly. (Copyright, 1913, by the McClure News- paper Syndleate.) kind,” she | Mother of Invention. John and Mary married impecuni- ously on thirty dollars a week and went to live in a “walk-up” apartment, two flights up. Then baby came, and besides adding to the family, added to the impecuniosity. Ingenuity went far toward solving the problems of living for two in an inexpensive place; baby strained that ingenuity farther. At first it was no impossible task to car- ry him upstairs, but he grew, as ba- bles will, and Mary’s back became weary daily as she carried him up. What was to be done? Oh, for an elevator! The dumbwaiter! Of course! There- after when Mary and baby came in, baby was put in the dumbwaiter. Then Mary walked upstairs and hoisted baby. Baby liked it; Mary lked it; and if you don't like it, that doesn’t matter. Don't Laugh, and Save Time. Bernard Shaw has issued a little “personal appeal” to the audiences aftending the Kingsway theater for the matinee performances of “John Bull's Other Island” on the subject of their “most generous and unrestrain- ed applause.” “Are you aware,” he asks, “that | you would get out of the theater half 1an hour earlier if you listened to the He had always_carried her | BULK DRIED APPLES 10c¢. Ib. Pure Food Store W.P, Pillans & Co. PHONE 93 play in silence and did not applaud until the fall of the curtain? “Have you noticed that if you laugh loudly and repeatedly for two hours you get tired and cross and are sorry next morning that you did not stay at home? “Do you know that if you delay the performances by loud laughter yun will make them half an hour too long?” Had to Know the Time. “I understand,” said the judge, “thad you stole the watch of tke doctor who had just written a prescription for you at the free dispensary. Whas have you to say to this charge?” “Well, your honor,” said the prisoner, “It 18 true, but I found myself in & hole H's prescription sald a spoonful every honr, and [ had no watch.” Shopping In the Ozark Distriot. “You keep sportin' goods yur, don"t you?" inquired a frazzled looking eitizen from out on Rumpus Ridge, ad dressing the proprietor of the hard wore store at Polkville, Ark. “Hb heh, that's what 1 'lowed. Well, what I was aimin’ to git was a straight Jacket for a crazy man."—Kansas City Star KILL ALL The great insect de stroyer and disenfee- tant. Kills insects ofall kinds instantly. Sold by W. J. WARING & CO. UPHOLSTERNG AND Ola Muttresses made over; cushioms of all kind made te erder. Drep me |3 postal card. Arthur A Douglas 415 8. Ohio Btreet. Wie Ploasure, A famous king sald: "It men onlp kmew how pleasant to me it is to foe give faults, there is not one of them who would not commit crime." — Frem he Orfeat. The Services of Artists Are Yours When You Bring | Your Printing to the Lakeland News Job Printing Office YOU get your work done by people who know--who will not let some foolish error creep into your work that will make your printed matter ineffective, and perhaps subject it to the amused comment of discriminating people. Odur plant turns out ten newspapers every week--two of them being sixteen-page papers of state-wide circulation; but this does not mean that we do not also give the closest attention to the small work. An order for visiting cards, or for printing a rib- bon badge, or a hundred circulars, is given the same careful consideration that enables us to secure and successfully carry out our large contracts. And, having had to fit up for the bigger work naturally enables us to do the smaller work better. For Printing--a Line o ra Volume--We Are At Your Serbice THE LAKELANDNEWS JOB OFFICE KENTUCKY BUILDING