The Roswell daily record. [volume] (Roswell, N.M.) 1903-current, 1904-09-10
A QUESTION
OF CHARITY

wires flooded b place with soft light.
There were long tables, over which
presided young women in white, who
impossible things; a tent where an Oc-
casion-made gypsy told your fortune;
a lottery with prizes ranging from pea
nuts to a French doll; a refreshment
bar where the only change from your
proffered bill was a surfeit of gratitude
and an engaging smile. Well down the
lawn. behind an impromptu screen OF
potted plants, an amateur orchestra
was struggling-heroically, at least
with classic o~vertures.
For something over half an hour
Mr.. Robert Weston had bee wander
ing about. making most reckless pur-
chases at the tables and playing the
lottery with all the abandon of a born
plunger. To all appearances his course
about the place was very like that Of a
ship without Il rudder. Yet there was
method in his madness, n all the
time he was being o~utrageously swim
died, at the various booths, from the
corner of his eye he was watching for
q certain white dress and a crown of
copper colored hair. Presently his pa
tience was rewarded. Far down to-
ward the palm screen he saw her sink
into a lawn chair. He deposited his
bundles in an undignified heap on a
neighboring table and made his way
to the lawn chair.
Man." he said gravely as he came
up to her, you're tired to death, poor
child"
"Oh, no." she said. only I'll be glad
when It's all over"
Come away from it for awhile" he
advised. ".Ill take you down to the
boathOuse."
She rose and slipped her hand
through his. arm. Together they de
scended the slope to the river and
went out TO the end of the little pier
by the boathouse, where they sat down
on a rustic bench.
Well" Weston said, was it a sue
cess?"
1T would be if everybody spends
money as recklessly as you have been
doing" she replied.
He laughed. Il was particularly for
tunate in the lottery he explained. Il
drew four bags of peanuts. a doll and a
box of hairpins. My last purchase was
three aprons and a half dozen t1atirOn
holders. Imagine it." he chuckled.
ANYWAY she said. you've lone
your best to help us Out. You're a dear,
good boy"
"Ah," he said solemnly, 81 knew l
should be discovered some time.
Tell me, Nan. what this is for he
went on after a pause. prayer books
for the Eskimos or blankets for the
Fiji isIandersT"
The money goes to st. Agatha's
Home For Orphans and Foundlings.
We support it mainly" she explained.
Hmm" he unused. Don't suppose
you yer see the orphans and found
lings,' do you? Just turn over the
money to EN- and let it go at that, Ell?
Say, Nan" he said. with a sudden seri-
BUSINESS which rather surprised her. Il
don't believe all this giving money to
charity is the best way of doing it.
There are plenty of cid moneybags
trying to buy a chance to heaven
who'll look out for hat end of it. |
say, for those who are fitted for il, per
sonal work among the needy is the
most practical thing"
perhaps a few details would make
your suggestion more explicit, Bobby"
she said.
Undoubtedly" he assented cheerful
ly. Now. for instance, take a case
know about. There's an orphan, and
he's cold and hungry and lonesome. 1t
isn't so much none he needs as some
one to take an interest in him. to
stand behind him. as it were. You see,
they won't take him into a home
"Why notY' she interrupted.
We'll" be said slowly, Ito begin
with. his age
What is his ageT
'"Thirty-one."
Gracious! I should say he wouldn't
get into a home. The age limit at st.
Agatha's is fifteen. Thirty-one"
Il realize it's a crime for him to be
isn't his fault"
What's the matter with him?" she
asked sharply. Doesn't he work? Is
he lazy?"
THE LATEST rascal alive" he said.
"But he really doesn't have to work,
you know. He's got money enough. as
far as that goes-keeps a horse or so
and an automobile. When l said he
was cold and hungry l meant he was
cold for lack of interest and hungry
for sympathy and-oh, hang it! You
know we'll enough what l mean. The
orphan is me-" he burst out INGRAM
matically, land and for heavens
sake, don't send all your charity to st.
Agatha's, but save a little for the lone
some thirty-one-year-old orphan!'
Bobby" she said severely, you're
proposing again, and you promised me
you wouldn't-not for a year.
"An ability to tell the truth never
did run in our family" he said dismal
ly. Il assure you, l won't offend in the
proposal line again. however"
No, / don't think you WILL" she said,