Five Mile Beach weekly journal., 1910-03-18

The Line
@March|'
A St. Patrick's Day Story s
BY cLARISSA MACKIE s
Copyright, 1910. by American Press {
Association.
BY cLARIssA MAcKIE
A St. Patrick's Day Story
Copyright, 1910. by American Press
Association.



Matthew Golden rearranged the
newspapers and periodicals on his
counter into their customary order.
March issues of the Ladies' Own Pc
riodical confronted him. There on the
cover, encircled by a wreath of sham
rocks, was Margaret Devlin's beauti-
full Irish face-blue-black mist of hair.
forgetmenot eyes fringed thickly with
black lashes. saucy nose and smiling
red lips.
The name Of the artist was fantas-
tically blurred into the background.
yet 1t was clear enough for Matthew's
Jealous eyes to decipher "Conners."
His hands clinched savagely. He knew
Corners by sight-big, hulking, red
headed artist from the top foor of the
studio building around the corner. He
had walked past twice with Margaret
Devlin. Once there had been a little
thin faced girl with them-some new
friend of Margaret's whom Matthew
did not know.
just then the door opened, and he
turned to confront Margaret herself.
bewitching in fur turban and coat of
chinchilla. Her blue eyes did not lift
above his firm chin; they rested there
while she spoke:
s'Good morning. Is the March num-
Der of the Ladies' Own Periodical out
yeti"
He placed a copy of the desired
magazine OF the counter before her
and turned away that he might not
see the look of startled pleasure In
her eyes when she beheld her own
beauty on the W.
"Ill take all the copies you have"
said Margaret crisply. opening her
jingling silver purse. How much?"
Even then her eyes were not lifted
above his chin.
"Forty-nine copies at 10 cents
$4.90-thank you" The bell on the
cash register changed noisily as Mat
thew made change. He laid the coins
On the counter. shall | send the
magazines to you, madam? They are
very heavy" His o was very i'm
personal.
IF you please said Miss Devlin
haughtily, with one gloved hand on
the knob of the door.
The young man who worked for him
came back from lunch, the errand boy
returned from the familiar number
IN SeTeF5a Hat~
thew worked on relentlessly.
The door opened. and a strange thrill
down his spine told Matthew Golden
that Marg. ret had returned. He
heard her low pitched voice speaking
to the clerk. The latter spoke:
81 see we are all out of the Ladies'
Own, MI. Golden. When will we have
some moreY"
II shall not order any more"
The store was empty. and he pushed
his chair away impatiently and locked
the books into the safe. Then he
reached down his hat and went out to
dinner.
1t was his luck that the only vacant
seat In the restaurant should be OPP
posite Margaret's father, Tom Devlin.
Mr.. Devlin was as homely as his
daughter was beautiful. and his plain
features now lighted up into genial
friendliness. Matthew. me dear boy"
he said. with just a touch of the
brogue. I'm glad to see We. What's
the matter. Ye haven't been wearing
out the doormat at No. $40 this dogs
age. I've been looking for We to come
around and have a game at cribbage
~rtkI ~ NTnrntNya lnoIse ca Full Of
wedding IL shes." Mr.. Devlin attack
ed his salad. with twinkling eyes busy
over the proper mixture of the dress
ing.
Matthew's heart gave a frightened
leap. n or two hard thumps and then
apparently went out of business all
together.
when is the w%eddlng?' he heard
himself ask carelessly.
''The nth" returned Mr.. Devlin.
''This month";"
Sure"
est. Patrick's day, then" murmured
Matthew dazedly.
like to have We come, Mat-9
o'clock at st. Francis. Maggie would
have it so. though Corners wanted
just to step into the rector and let
Father Fraley tie the knot"
Matthew scraped back his chair and
waved the proffered dessert aside. 81
must be going along. Good night, Mr..
Deylin," he said heavily.
"Then We won't be there on the
17th?' asked Devlin. with a tinge of
disappointment In his tone.
Cant. Sons of st. Patrick parade
at 0 on the 17th." said Matthew. My
congratulations to Miss Margaret"
Devlin was speaking to the waiter,
and Golden took his hat and went
away into the brightly lighted streets.
He walked for hours up and down the
hard pavements. seeing nothing save
a pair Of forgetmenot blue yes and
feeling nothing save a tearing pain at