The Tupelo journal., 1903-04-03


a Ii the members of the Winters
II family, with one exception, were
literary. This exception was Dorothy.
Mr.. Winters was editor-in-chief of one
OF the large city papers, Clarence was
reporter for another, sister Mary was
d school-teacher, and sister Lucia
wrote for the magazines. As for Mrs.
Winters, she was president of the
Browning club, secretary of h Wo-
mans club, and an active member of
a variety of other clubs too numerous
to mention.
1t would seem rather strange hat
in a family so stepped in the atmos-
phere of books and newspapers there
should be one black sheep; although
to call Dorothy a black sheep were
certainly a libel, for if there ever was
a white, sweet, dearly loved lamb in
any flock, she could lay claim to that
distinction. The term is only used to
convey the idea that she was different
from the others. While they were
all studious, thoughtful and serious
in their tastes, she was the gayest,
most careless, and, SO they all de-
clared, the most frivolous little body
in existence. Even in her personal
appearance she presented a striking
contrast to her older sisters. Mary
and Lucia were tall and slight. with
big black eyes that seemed to be al
ways looking over everybody's head
into something far off and mysteri-
Gus. The youngest daughter, on the
other hand, was plump and blonde,
with laughing blue eyes and rosy,
dimpled cheeks.
DOrothy'S best friend would never
have contended that she was clever
at books. When she graduated from
the high school it must be owned that
it was nearer the loot than the head
of her class. 1t was fortunate that
she had other qualities to endear her
to her teachers and mates. Everyone
loved pretty Dolly. She was so sweet
natured, so generous, so full of vital
ity and sprightliness, that it vas i'm
possible to do otherwise.
This admiration was shared by her
own family. They all united in
praising her beauty, and in petting
and caressing her, as well as making
tender little jokes at her expense in
regard to her intellectual shortcom-
ings, in which she Joined so mirth-
fully and good-naturedly that it
never occurred to anyone that she
could possibly be sensitive about it,
or have any aspirations beyond the
domestic career which they had
agreed in mapping out for her.
"How nice it is, Dolly darling, that
you are to be at home after this"
said her mother, as Dorothy was
helping her to pack her valise to go
to the biennial meeting of the State
Federation of Women's clubs. ''Now
/ shall not need to worry about the
house while | am gone. Nora is so
cross and sullen with everyone else.
The home is quite a different place
when you are looking after things"
You sweet child" said sister Mary.
coming in from school, tired and
~headachey, to find Dorothy ready to
pull off her muddy boots and to serve
her with a cup of hot tea and a sand
witch on a dainty tray. "You always
think of everyone. What should we
do without someone to cheer us up
when we are cross and discouraged?
It's a very fortunate thing hat one
of the Winters family turned out to
be domestic"
1t never happened that anyone ever
questioned the domestic talents. and
inclinations of Dorothy. 1t had been
settled when she was quite a small
child that Nature had intended her
for a little housewife. She could
make the most delicious desserts and
the most toothsome co~nfectionery:
she had such beautiful taste in ar
ranging the diningroom table and
kept the house SO fresh and sweet
and orderly that no one suspected
that she abhorred the dishpan, hated
to make beds, OF was made faint and
sick by the sight of raw meat when
she went TO market to select her
fathers favorite cuts. Dolly never
said anything about it. Naturally,
no one could be supposed to know.
Now, it frequently happens that
careers laid out for us by our friends
are not always the ones we should
select if left to ourselves. This was
the ease with Dorothy. Secretly, she
longed to be literary, like the rest,
instead of domestic. She listened
with the profoundest awe when her
mother discussed important club mat
tiers with her friends, and her eyes
were large with wonder when the
great author complimented Lucia on
her last story. Oh, that she, too,
night do something to make the big
world pause to admire and commend
heri
Sometimes these secret aspirations
were not kept altogether to herself,
but were vaguely limited at in con-
~versation. "Why, Dolly, we don't
want you to be literary" her father
would say on such occasions. "We
like you better just as you are And
Mr.. Winters seemed to think that set