The Washburn leader. [volume] (Washburn, McLean County, N.D.) 1890-1986, 1907-05-03
booking down confusedly on the fns'
white parting that separated the buf.
nishqd golden waves of hair.

booking down c%onfusedly on the nns'
white parting that separated the buf.
nished golden waves Of hair.
"She's disturbed my train Of thought"
he said helplessly after she had dis
appeared. $50 her mother died when
she was a baby, and she's all alone in
the world, poor child"
For the next hour George Charlie
magne Tower scrubbed away idly over
his %desk-idly, for visions of a goddess
with FURNISHED hair got mixed up with
everything he wrote. Finally he press
ed the electric button. When Mrs. Mar
tin appeared, he explained to her that
he'd changed his mind about the canary
rather fancied he liked its singing,
after also she need not disturb her
self about complaining to it's wner
She had not already done so, he hoped.
Mrs. Martins kindly, motherly face
beamed. No, she had not. She was
deferring that unpleasant mission till
evening. Miss Clemens went out to
work every morning. That was she
who closed the hall door a half hour
ago. And she was afraid it might up
set the poor girl for the days duties,
telling her just as she left, etc.
When Mrs. Martin had gone, the
bachelor Strengthened up and laughed,
and with the laugh he was transform
ed. He pushed his pen and Ink away,
put the paperweight over his unfin-
ished manuscript, strobe into the han
and rang for the lift with the swagger
of youth. His slightly bent, scholarly
walk was discarded. What man could
be old with a face like Gracioca's In
his heart?
A day or two later when he found
that this embodiment Of youth was
"motherly Mamie Of the Young Girls
Embroidery Bazaar and that her duties
were to lead the young mind into the
mysteries Of purling, drop stitch and
sentiment he acknowledged that there
was some humor in life, after all.
Life was not only humorous; it was
gradually becoming luminous as well.
Gone were the days when his desk and
his books were Mr.. Towers sole com
panions. In the daytime now he often
listened to the song of the canary and
lived in thoughts of its owner. In the
evenings he was allowed to chat with
the girl herself.
Mrs. Martin watched the growing ro-
nance with self effacing interest, II
on many a coy evening spent around
the log fire in the library CRATE she
would invent some excuse and absent
herself so that the two might be alone.
The bachelor had fingered his glasses
nervously when he asked the question
of questions, and when in her cool.
confident little. way the girl had said
mo" he urged no further.
81 understand,' he said to himself
that night as he dropped his head down
on the desk, 81 am too-too old. Such
a fool to dream of it!'
The girl, however, in the privacy or
her room, wore q wistful, sad little
face. Now and then Il tear would fall
with a splash.
"He doesn't seem SO awfully, awfully
old. Blk" she pleaded, going up to the
cage where the canary slept with his
head tucked unresponsively under his
wing. GLOW could I do without him
now? He never guesses how this silly
little heart of mine listens for his step
III the hall or the sound of his voice,
nor how it futters when 1t hears them.
Is it so very, very dreadful, Blk, to
marry a man who thinks he's too old?
I wonder if"- Her sentence trailed
off :indistinguishably IS she knelt to
say her prayers.
" y
But she didn't wonder long. Mrs.
Martin wouldn't let her. And SC on
the following Sunday she tripped into
the library carrying her canary cage.
Blk wasn't feeling very we'll, and she
had promised him a sun bath by the
rubber plant.
As Mr.. George Charlemagne lower
hung the cage he seemed overlooking
ly happy. Evidently that cool, conf
dent little mo- had been withdrawn
for the purpose of amendment-it
would have been even safe to guess
that Il Eyes" had been supplied. Ora
cioca had nestled herself into u big
leather chair near the fire, as If she
intended to stay there forever. 1t was
a way she had-one Of the many ways
her lover had found SO ineffably charm
ing. Possibly other girls had them
too. lie didn't know.
He stood before her for a second;
then. STOPPING, his two patrician hands
framed each side of her oval face, he
turned it up to his.
'Think, DEAR" he said, you might
have come and stopped awhile and
gone-just like the dozen and n other
occupants of that room back there
if"-
"If it hadn't been for Blk" twinkled
she, dimpling divinely.
"Precious little Blix!' calculated he,
his voice lost somewhere among the
coils of the girls fluffy hair.
And the canary forgetting he wasn't
feeling well, extended his slender body,
filed his tiny lungs with air and sang
p%ompously. 1t was, for all the world,
as if he were proud Of the mission lie
j. had performed.
Useless Tom.
Car1vlp'S SpyereSt critic and q critic