The Ekalaka eagle. [volume] (Ekalaka, Mont.) 1909-1920, 1909-08-27
The Candy Boy and
His Little Love
Copyright, by J. B. Lippincott Co..
BY BOYER

out OF 1t anywhere.
In a large old, black-leather pocket
book l found a letter written to my
father the night before they were be-
trOthed. 1t had neither formal be-
ginning nor ending, but ran simply
thus:
Don't be silly about the candy bust
ness. Dickie. even if my father did
rub il in rather. He won't do it again,
becausc-Ill come to that presently.
And If it will make you feel any
better, l will tell you a little secret.
II 1t weren't for that candy business
my heart would not be so unspeakably
and ,na!terably yours. And this is the
way Of it: When l was a tiny girl
and lived on Bleecker street, and you
were a small boy and sold candy by
the ounce, over the counter in your
fathers old corner shop so near at
hand, I used to come to you to buy
sweets. And you would say, with the
most beautiful brogue:
"Wud We be havin' the wintergreen
shticks, miss, or the pippermint, or a
thrifle of both?' Oh, yes you would
] always took a "thrifle of both" And
while you were weighing it, and put.
ting it into nice white paper, ad tying
1t up, l was just doting on you-your
tight little blond curls, your brave
blue eyes, your straight nose, your
pink cheeks, your strong white teeth.
And you had funny hicks on your
hands, as if you had been playing
with the cat or somebody had been
driving tacks into you. | reproduced
those hicks on my own hands, pain
fully, with large pins, until held up by
mother, who blamed our dear, limo
cent Tom. Then Mercy and Truth
met together, and | was obliged to
confess. When asked why l desired
to hurt and distigure my poor little
paws, which were being tenderly
anointed with soothing unguents, |
answered that | thought the hicks
were pretty. My mother did not ar
que it out with me. She made me
wear gloves until my hands were
healed. did not like gloves, and soon
after that we moved away. How did
you get those hicks, Dickie? l see
they are clean gone for ever, and at
first l quite missed them. When my
brother talked, rapturously, of his
chum at Harvard who was to enter
law at the same time as himself, |
did not know that the Richard Fol.
lott, of S%tuyvesant square, whose
father was the rich manufacturer of
Irish linens, with works at Belfast
n warehouses in New York; did
not know that this Richard Folliott
was my small candy boy. That is,
not until you entered the parlor that
Sunday, and | recognized the tight
little blond cur)s, and the soft little
brogue into which you tumble when.
ever 0 are slightly embarrassed.
Oh, yes, you do. And then, Dickie,
dearest, | knew that l had loved you
for years and years, and you had
never known it. For the matter of
that, neither had |.
And it was brave and beautiful in
you to tell my father all about the
candy business, though, if you hadn't,
good-by to me.
When my father took his dear
little daughter in his arms, and told
her she mustn't cry for the moon,
meaning you, for she couldn't have
it, I took his advice. l didn't cry. I
pondered. ! wanted to find out where
in our family greatness consisted. So
l went to a dear old professor l know,
M | asked him to lend me books
which should throw light on the
Dutch %colonists from the time they
frcf 1nrlnl on tho i~1o~l ~f NF~,,-A
tan. l was gratified. Then | went
to my fathers library, and I sat on his
knees, and rumpled his hair, and I
said TO him:
Father, why can't l marry Dickie
Folliott?' He answered patiently:
Because, my dear, it would not be
proper that the daughter of a man
who has been minister to the court
of St. Vladimir and one, too, having
such a pedigree as ours, should marry
a youth who once sold candy Over the
counter
us it generally known that Dickie
sold candy over the counter?" quoth I.
"Perhaps not generally. 1t must be
known in certain quarters, because
everything is known by somebody.
These things always leak out. l con-
fess I shouldn't have been aware of
the fact myself if the young man
hadn't told me; and l honor his frank
ness, l may say his courage. But
that is no reason why l should allow
him to marry my daughter"
"How is it that Mr.. F%olliott's father
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