The Fulton County news. [volume] (McConnellsburg, Pa.) 1899-current, 1908-10-22
FOR LOVE OF CHL0RIS"
by sEULAH MARIE DIX.

Wetherell, put 10 tne large circle Oh
their relatives they were Lizzie
Wetherell and Lizzie's daughter,
while to the girls of Ambrazon Col
tege they were Betty Wetherell OF o.
and Betty's mother.
Lizzie wetherell had pretty brown
hair, Just touched with gray, and
brown eyes that crinkled when she
laughed. A tidy little body she had,
usually clad in brown tailored suit,
and plump capable hands. She could
keen a house with marvellous nicely.
She could plan and make the dainti-
est of gowns. She could tell the fun
niest stories. For occupation she
took three girl students to board in
her cozy, old fashioned house in
Brownlow street. And with all her
heart she admired and adored her
daughter Betty.
Betty Wetherell had pretty brown
hair, Just touched with red, and
brown eyes that were grave and ear
nest. A supple young body she had,
clad in pretty gowns of her mothers
planning, and slim, restless hands.
She could write themes that won
commendation even from her English
Instructors. She could plan novels
and plays that in time she meant to
write. For occupation she was a
student at Ambrazon College. And
being a we'll bred girl. she was toll
Grant of her mother, and rarely
showed how frivolous she thought
her mind and how trifling her pur-
suits.
The graduate student, who dug at
Gothic roots in the third story cham
ber of the house in Brownlow street
held that Betty's worst fault was
youth. In time. no doubt, that would
amend itself. But meanwhile it was
not always a pleasure to watch Betty
with her mother.
In her little girlhood Betty had
thought that there was no one in the
world so clever as her mother. She
had liked to hear about the days
when her mother had been young
and, like her, had written stories and
and had even begun to have things
printed in the papers, till on hei
marriage. she had laid aside al
thought of a career.
But as Betty grew older anG
more critical. and found that hel
mother preferred Scott to Stevenson
and Milton to Browning, and clunl
to Macaulay as Trustworthy histor
ian, she began to feel that her moth
er, however worthy as housekeeper
was sadly deficient as a scholar. and
no doubt, as a writer.
So more and more Betty told hel
aspirations and read her stories tt
her. own little coterie of college
friends, and less and less to her moth
er. And Lizzie Wetherell went OF
keeping her house spick and span
but she did not tell SO many drol
stories. And sometimes. when sh'
had spoken. she glanced at cleve
Betty as If she almost expected to b.
snubbed for her frivolity.
At such times the graduate studen
longed to take Betty by the shoulder
and bump that pretty, foolish littl
head of hers against the nearest wall
OF course, feeling her mother
lack of true appreciation of her worl
and aims, Betty did not confide II
her when she decided, at the begin
ming of her junior year, to compel,
for the $500 prize that Eversham'
Magazine was offering for the bes
short story submitted before Decem
ber 1. Instead, she consulted he
friends and classmates, and with thei
aid picked out the manuscript tha
she meant to submit. 1t was a them
that her instructor had declared quit
perfect in its literary form, and sh
felt it no extravaganza to pay to hav
1t neatly typewriter.
How pretty her own words looke'
seen for the first time in clear, printe'
letters! When Betty carried tn
manuscript home, in the frosty No
vember twilight, she had only one re
gret, namely, that there was no on
left among her friends who had no
heard the story. She would so mucl
have liked to read 1t aloud from tn
typewriter manuscript.
So thinking, Betty entered tn
house, and there, in the living room
she saw her mother sitting. The lam
was lighted, and in the open CRATE tn
fire was kindled. At her mother
elbow, on her desk, were the pad O
which the days menus were writer
and couple of cook books. On he
mothers lap were a darning baske
and Betty's silk stockings. And o
the table was a silver dish of crystal
hzed ginger, sweet of which Bett
was fond.
After the cold outdoors the liyin
room looked warm and cozy, and Bel
" wanted hearer for her story. 81
contrary to custom, she went into tn
living room instead of passing on t
her own chamber, which was also he
study. She sat down In the dee
chair by the hearth, and for an II
slant she had half a mind to tell he
mother all about the Eversham
prize offer. But then, as she locke
at her pretty manuscript. she felt s
sure OF Its success that she thought
better to wait and astonlsh her mott
or when she had actually won tn
prize. So for the present she told he
only that she had there typewritte
COPY OF one of her newest stories.
Perhaps you would like to hea
". Betty ended, graciously. "It
called, For Love of Chloris.' Whs
are you smiling at, mother"
Il didn't fnaan m daar - ooid "a,