The Chickasha daily express. (Chickasha, Indian Territory [Okla.]) 1899-current, 1905-02-01
~ 4, 4 4 \ IA ~
SPRINGTIME WOOING
Observation-Disclosures


stairs, locked the doors Of her room
and gazed at herself in the glass. Was
she indeed a being of talent? What
would John Felix say to that?
She turned to her desk. Dear little
pen; it was you and l and the ink
bottle that did it. You dear things;
how wonderful you arew and she
kissed her mother and told her all
Mrs. Greenhill rose to the occasion;
she blessed and embraced her child,
she trembled with ecstacy of the mo-
ment; her eyes flowed with happy
tears.
AT last, my Dorothy, fame has
found you outl You are no longer ain
obscure being. l shudder to think how
often this gifted hand has washed the
dishes, and even peeled potatoesl 1t
shall never he degraded again. We
shall keep the best of cooks; and your
dresses shall be made in Paris! Yon
shall do nothing but write all of the
time. You wrote this story in three
days, you say. That will be two a
week, if you keep steadily at it. and
we shall be swimming in money!
Dorothy made a face.
Il don't want to be swimming in
money. l want to be as have always
been. l don't know how / happened
to write that story-something came
over me. 1t will not come again for
the trying"
Be calm, Dorothy, dear. l win get
lot of paper and ink, too Don't you
think purple ink would be better; it
is more cheerful than black. All you
have to do from this time on is to
stay still and write. will bring your
coffee to you regularly and you shall
always have rare beef.
"Oh, mamma, stop Do you think /
am pugilist
you need a cup of tea, dear. 1t
will settle your nerves and stimulate
your brain"
"Oh, mamma. l have no nerves and
no brain either. All / want is a bowl
of bread and milk and a chance to go
to bed"
The mother spent a sleepless night.
Splendid visions filled her mind. In
all of them she herself figured beauti-
fully in trained gowns as the mother
of the gifted young author who had
set the world afire. She was up be-
times in the morning arranging a
writing room for her daughter. She
hung the walls with pictures Of au-
thors and piled poety books on the ta-
bic, and brought down the old desk
from the attic, which she placed in a
good light before the window.
"You have nothing to do but to go
In there and shut the door and write
poetry"
But it is so stuffy, mamma, and it
smeels of the furniture polish you put
on the desk. cannot sit down there
and stare at the paper all day 1 am
going to put the house in order just as
usual"
This is madness, Dorothy. Are you
going back now that you have struck
the path of fame? Are you going to
fail in the eyes of all your friends and
acquaintaneeSg
Il hope you have not told any one
about IT,"
Indeed. l have. early and late. 1
told the neighbors last night and Dr.
Felix at sunrise this morning"
what did he say about it?'
'He said that he had lost his case
that typhoid fever case over in Swamp
ton"
"Oh, Oh" said Dorothy, her eyes fill
Ing with tears. Isn't it dreadful%'
1T is dreadful that anyone with your
genius should excite yourself even to
tears about some one you do not
know. All you lave to do is to write
Do you not care for me, Dorothy?
Cart you see what it is to me that
you should succeed?"
The mother spoke with a fierce earn
estness, her eyes burnt with fire of
wistfulness, and her small face was
tense with eager desire, and the daugh-
ter's heart yielded, pity got the better
Of her judgment.
Weii mOlner, Sne Sald, at last, 4
will try. 1 will do my best"
So Dorothy glued herself 20 the desk
day after day and week after week.
but the inspiration which had pro-
duced her first article never came
back to her. except for a faint glow
upon an occasional paragraph which
could not lift the body of the story out
of its dearth of incident and plot. She
toiled on, losing health and spirits,
she wore her hair in a tight knot at
the top of her head, she had no heart
for the jaunty costumes which once
were her delight Her mother shut her
off from the home duties of which she
was so fond. and as far as possible
excluded her from the society of her
friends.
1T is not possible for Dorothy to
see you" she was ever saying to visi-
tors. She's busy all day at her writ
ing. and at evening she is too tired to
see company"
Poor DR.. Felix He was only
young village doctor, working up a
practice, and very much in love with
Dorothy. He did not know much about