The Wichita daily eagle. [volume] (Wichita, Kan.) 1890-1906, 1900-10-12
Franks Football Fatality.

fdiih OOlUdit ded'itys
Then up jumps my heart and begins to
beat fast:
She's coming," IT whispers. ''she $
hereT' she has passed.
| While I throw up the sash and lean
breathlessly down
To catch the last glimpse of her vanish
ing gown
Excited. delighted, yet wondering why
My senses desert me IL Polly goes by!
Century.
at might be worse, Frank. dear" con-
soled the rosy little aunt.
1T might" admitted Frank, gloomIly.
It's pleasant street to look out on.
If 1t is quiet" she added.
It was a pleasant street they were
looking out on then from the window OF
the little old-fashioned house with its
futtering dimity curtains and bright
brass door-bell. 1t Is tucked away on
the West Side. II Is not more than two
blocks in length. The houses are de-
tached and have quite an air of exciu-
siveness. Two long green grass piats
run down the center of the street, and
between them a jolly little fountain goes
forever
Leaping toward the sun-heart to be
warmer:
Then recoiling in a trembIe from too much
light above
But despite the pleasant aspect OF the
place and his aunt's adoring ministra-
ton, Frank Harland found the days
dragged. To have been hurt in foot
balm a practice game at that! To
be obliged to leave the team and cuddle
down and keep still like a naughty child
| who is doing penance in the corneri
Worst Of oil 10 "a o,-er teTY7 ri1t- -
barred from the youthful companonship
in which he so delighted-it was deuced
hard-it was disgusting!
Now that you're sitting up you'll be
out in no timei" his aunt assured him
cheerily. Now, it's time for your nour-
ishnient. Eli. my dear?"
WHO is she?" cried the young fellow.
He had caught her suddenly. "Yes-
there! Coming out of the opposite house.
She passes here every day. Scout of
that house with all the beautiful flowers
in the windows"
"She? o. her names Isola Raw"
''Isola Ray!' he repeated. His dark,
poetic young face lit up. what de-
licious nameH
She has been away at boarding school.
She graduated this summer. She is Civ
ing music lessons. They say she is
bright. She's a relative Of the old people
over there. Why-she is coming herer'
trim little figure in a fall suit of
moss-green with bewitching little toque
of cerise silk on her hair had come in
at the gate-was ascending the steps.
Miss Denslow f1uttered to the hall
door.
Come inl' she cried Hospitality.
THANK you, no. just brought few
flowers for the poor young gentleman.
viii you give them to him with my SYM
pathy?'
She smiled-disappeared. And Frank
Hsrland found himself holding a mass
of scarlet geraniums and delicate ferns.
The next morning IT was a little bunch
of late violets-the day after bouquet
of fragrant heliotrope. But despite her
dainty floral gifts the young music
teacher never came in.
ASK her." Frank would entreat. TELL
her 1 wish to thank her"
IL have, my dear" his aunt would
cry in despair. Here, you're getting
feverish again. You'll have a relapse
I can't think what's coming over you"
The days did not drag now-at least
not until after Isola had passed. Then
there was the afternoon to watch for
when she came home. A delightful an
imation thrilled the convalescent athlete.
Once she had met his eyes-and bushed.
The next time she smiled. Finally-eG-
static day! she bowed
But there came a day-one glorious, cop
per-colored October day-when Franks
aunt got a shock which lefteher breath
lsss-and Isola Ray got another. This
is the way 1t came about: Twittering old
Miss Denslow, swooping in on her be-
loved patient with a tray of delicaces,
almost dropped the tray at sight of her
tall nephew, erect, smiling, clothed in his
ordinary habiiments
ITS all right" he assured her. 81
couldn't play Ill one day longer-not an
houri To stay indoors with that sky,
that sun, that breeze! II would be Grim
inal. Here I'll drink your broth. auntie.
I'm only going for a short walk"
1t was a Short walk. 1t was only as
far as the housz with the fower-f1lle1
windows across the street
It was Isola Ray herself-Isola, in a
Quakerish little grey house gown. that
matched her eyes, and a fetching little
apron of ruffled lawn. who opened the
door to him.
Your she stammered. She grew quite
white. "Why-you-"
I'm not a ghost" he assured her
smiling. MY name Is Frank Harland.
I've come to thank you for all those
exquisite flowers. Won't you ask me
in?"
But I-but my-my friend said that
you-you were crippled for life! And
I thought thought
Now Isola Rayr' protested a plain
tive voice. The mistress OF the house
came up the hall. 81 thought when you
asked me about the sick gentleman at
the window that you meant old Mr..
Benham who lives at 80. He's been all
but bedridden for years. I did not know
you meant Miss Denslow's nephew.
Come in, Mr.. Harland."
Never was invitation accepted with
more alscrity That wasn't the only
time Frank entered the hower-filled par
lor-ah. not by many!
"A year ago." he says today. and
signs. Now / know the dire effects OF
a football fatality"
And when his friends question him. he
just glances significantly at a glittsring
stone on A white fnger-and attempts
explanation.
But his flsncee stops him. And they
both laugh. Which. after all. IS the only
thing to DO when one is happy.