Democratic messenger. [volume] (Snow Hill, Md.) 1869-1973, 1909-05-22
The
Matchmaking
Of Bobby.
BY LULU JOHNSON.


illuminating his chubby face. Bobby
trotted up the street as fast rs a pair
of very fat and very little legs would
carry him. He was going to see Dick
Brant Next TO visiting Alice May
ling this was his greatest treat
Richard Brant could not make amaz-
ing cookies and preserves like Miss
Mayling, but he could tell stories OF
Indians and grizzlies and other crea-
lures dear to the small boys heart.
Miss Mayling's stories carried morals
and were about little boys who were
SO very good that Bobby found them
extraordinarily uninteresting. Had II
not been that the Mayling cakes were
as good as her young heroes Bobby
would not have been a frequent caller
on Alice Mayling.
This afternoon as he was warming
his dimpled hands before the open fire
he regarded with secret awe the deft
fashion In which Brant rolled himself
cigarette with one hand. Brant had
been a plainsman until he had run
across a mine while he was looking
All ctAay NAttASf aA0 AC No0iA bAAON q
rope and talk real Indian talk.
81 looked for you yesterday" said
Dick Brant gravely as he sank into a
chair on the opposite side Of the fire.
place.
II was seeing Miss Mayling," ex-
planned Bobby. "She makes cake on
Thursdays"
aAnd t,o,, dacarfad mn hanausa Miss
Mayling was making cakev' cried Dick
solemnly. In reality. though he used
mock pathos, he was little jealous of
Miss Mayling's popularity with his lit
tie chum. Somehow Bobby seemed to
Brant the most sincere friend he had
made In the big eastern city.
"Cake Is nice just out OF the oven,"
explained Bobby. "She always bakes
little cake for me, and of course
have to go and eat It."
II suppose So" assented Dick, but
was very lonesome yesterday"
"I'm sorry" said Bobby, with
prompt penitence and troubled face
wouldn't 1t be NICE" he added, IF
could go to see you and Miss Mayling
at the same time? You could tell me
stories and she could bake cake"
He stared into the fire, lost in rap
ture at the thought Of this most valua-
Bile combination. Dick looked scared
and blushed. He was little used to
feminine society, and a suggestion like
that, even from Bobby, startled him.
Besides, he had been secretly studying
Miss Mayling from afar.
Then you wouldn't be lonesome any
more" resumed Bobby. the vast at
fractions OF his good idea growing on
him. mot even II didn't come and
see You. cause then you and she would
have each other. But OF course would
come to see you," he added quickly
at would be awful nice"
II guess 1t would" assented Dick a
little absently.
''Then why don't your demanded
Bobby. With engaging directness.
ITO begin with, I don't know her."
explained Dick. "You see, man has
to know a lady before he can call on
her. and I've never met Miss May
ling"
When Bobby finally trotted away he
was thinking deeply. 1t was absurd
that his best man should not know
Miss Mayling.
At the next baking day at Miss May
llng's the thought was revived, and
with denial that meant immense de-
termination to him he obtained per-
mission to take his small spice cake
home. AS soon as he was out Of her
sight he carried 1t to Brant. his fat
legs speeding wonderfully.
"Ain't 1t finer he demanded eagerly
when he hid watched Brant devour
the last spicy morsel, not without envy
that almost assumed a poignant de-
gree.
simply great" admitted Brant, with
enforced enthusiasm. II tell you, Bob
by, the woman who made that cake is
wonder of a cook"
Bobby beamed bis professional salts
faction. IT thought you'd like It," he
said confidently. "She makes nicer
cakes than that sometimes I'll bring
you another when she makes fruit
cake"
Don't do It." advised Brant smil.
fngly. IF the fruit cake is as good as
this I'm liable to abduct her and force
her to bake cake for me for the rest Of
her life.s
whats abductT demanded Bobby.
Wien the word had been explained to
him he wrinkled his pudgy brows. But
II another deep idea had come to him,
as that contortion would seem to de-
note. It remained a secret In his fat
breast. "Give us an Indian story" he
demanded.
"AlI right. son." said Dick as he
stretched himself out in his easy chair
and prepared to entertain his small
guest with the story of how Chief
Spotted Panther carried or his Indian
bride from the camp OF a hostile tribe
He was unusually graphic In his
story telling. for as he went on he be-
gan to imagine that he was Spotted
Panther and Miss Mayling was the
Indian maid. Thus sadly had the un-