The Montgomery advertiser., 1902-02-06
THE ADVERTISERS ] DAILY SHORT STORY

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 Vain desires and empty nothingnes, or life of pleasure the beautiful gir quoted impatiently. Heaven knows, am tired of 1t all."
 Whats upT" questioned her brother Witn careless sympathy.
 Nothing. That's just it,
 well, don't see. You refused to gc riding with Barton because you had to nefp decorate and then you decide not to help decorate because the smell of the lilies save you . headache
 .Oh. whats the user
 None in the world. There'il be q That's just 1t. There always is , thing to do that nobody else can do To be Of some use. I'm tired of this httie- kattie life where everything--"
 Goes up in smoke and doesn't leave might be worse off. Sis
 ,Oh, l suppose l might impatientiy. But that isn't the question:"
 You are an American so naturally you want to be better of, eh?" And the young fellow returned to his cigar. The girl looked out on the dancing April evening and sighed softly.
 There goes fathers little stenograph- er. she said presently. Did you ever notice her eyes. Bob?'
 IShs LhCI WudL.
 Her eyes. you silly"
 they?'
 "ies. but what meant was that peace ful. steady look they always have. It must be very pleasant to feel that one is earning her own bread and butter. imagine she Is happy"
 You do. eh? Ill tell you something. little Sis. The truest saying in this world Is that every heart knows its own bit In cp4k Af h and Guiet eyes. that little girl isn't as happy as you imagine
 "Why. Bob. how do you knowT'
 Bob got up restlessly and walked away to another window.
 'Oh. I know all right. could make her happy. but she won't let me. Thinks by dad
 The girl turned to look st him and her heart sank. It was true. then. what ing to ca,e for their little gray-eyed stenographer. And they had so hoped he would marry
 "G "Gan,t you do it anyway"
 Why. make that little girl happy"
 Well. there is only one way to do it. Sis. and guess you and Dad would fling out at the idea. Not but what I would do 1t. though. if she would let me. She woi't.'
 "Why-er-she-er--do she?"
 Yes. suppose she does. She holds that father has placed his trust in her and she doesn't propose to betray it."
 And where do you come lar like don't come in at all. Oh. hother, bother. It's things like this that take the heart out of man." He flung open the window impatiently and dropped into the garden.
 Maud looked after him regretfully. If she had only fatran hta hand aagd
 More little foxes,' she murmured. No wonder my vines are barren Truly this afternoon had not been fruitful. She cause she knew he would talk specula- tons. Had shirked the church deco rating because she had a horror of those finicky old maids. and now she had showed her brother of into the cold be-
 And if had faced the music every time, couldn't feel much worse than 1 do now she reflected as she took down her hat and coat, and went out.
 The air within the little church was Hardtown folks were not subject to headaches and not yet substituted roses for the fragile white enblems of Easter morn. -. ,...- of asifssiration. The fnicky old maids had done hheir work welt The altar was---- Why. good evening. Miss Marton. I thought I was the only one here. Isn't 1t lovely?'
 "Very lovely" agreed the stenographer. She was kneeling before the altar ar- ranging a cross. but glanced up pleas antly as she spoke. ,s .te u
 T didn't know that you did church work" Maud remarked. l~ "r s~
 No, do not. Not often. But I Ike to make at least one cross for Easter. You and the other ladies have done ex- quisite work this afternoon" she added.
 "I was not in it," Maud replied mood fly. T staid at home with Bob, he was so blue. Stocks. I suppose. I might as well have not staid A woman cannot do much for man when business is
 Fridays story. "BUNKEs NOVEL" by