Charlevoix county herald. (East Jordan, Mich.) 189?-1953, 1912-09-07


lowered his voice and diagramed the
story on his fingers.
Mrs. Temple was still shaking with
sympathetic laughter. never dreaming
what her husband was laughing at
She turned to Mrs. Whitcomb. but
Mrs. Whitcomb was still glazing at
Mrs. Wellington. who was still writ
ing with flying fingers and underscor-
ing every other word.
Some people seem to think they
own the train." Mrs. Whitcomb ragged.
That creature has been at the writ
ing desk an hour. The worst OF II Is.
I'm sure she's writing to my hus-
band"
Mrs. Temple looked shocked. but an
other peal Of laughter came through
the partition between the male and re-
male sections Of the car. and she
beamed again. Then Mrs. Wellington
finished her letter. glanced 1t over, ad-
dressed an envelope, sealed and
stamped 1t with elaboration that
maddened Mrs. Whitcomb. When at
last she rose, Mrs. Whitcomb was In
the seat almost before Mrs. yelling
ton was out of It.
Mrs. Wellington paused at another
wave Of laughter from the mems
room. She commented petulantly:
What good times men have.
They've formed a club in there al.
ready. We women can only sit around
and hate each other"
Why, l don't hate anybody, do
you?" Mrs. Temple exclaimed. look
ing up from the novel she had found
on the book shelves. Mrs. yelling
ton dropped into the next chair:
"On a long railroad journey hate
everybody. Don't you hate long Jour-
ncys?"
Temple apologized. radiantly, land I'm
having the-what my Oldest boy would
call the time Of my life. And dear
Walter-such goings on for him! A
few minutes ago strolled by the door
and saw him playing cards with a
stranger. and smoking and drinking.
too. all at once"
Boys will be boys" said Mrs. VIII
lington.
But for DR.. Temple of all people"
why shouldn't doctor? It's a
shame the way men have everything
Think Of It, special smoking room.
And women have no place to take a
puff except on the sly"
Mrs. Temple stared at her in awe:
THE woman in this book smokes!-
perfuned things!"
"All women smoke nowadays" said
Mrs. Wellington, carelessly. Don't
your"
The politest thing Mrs. Temple
could think of in answer was: Not
yet"
Really" said Mrs. Wellington.
Don't you like tobacco?"
Il never tried it."
ITS time you did. smoke cigars
myself"
Mrs. Temple almost collapsed at
this double shock: "Ci-cigars?"
yes; cigarettes are too strong for
me; will you try one Of my pets?"
Mrs. Temple was about to express
her repugnance at the thought, but
Mrs. Wellington thrust before her a
portfolio in which nestled such dainty
shapes of such a warm and winsome
brown, that Mrs. Temple paused to
stare, and, like Mother Eve, found the
fruit of knowledge too interesting
once seen TO reject with scorn. She
hung over the cigar case in hesitant
excitement one moment too long. Then
she said in a trembling voice: Il
should like to try once-just to see
what it's like. But there's no place."
Mrs. Wellington felt that she had
already made proselyte to her own
beloved vice, and she rushed her vic
tim to the precipice. There's the OBJ
servation platform, my dear. Come
on out"
Mrs. Temple was shivering with dis
may at the dreadful deed: What
would they say in Ypsilanti?"
What do you care? Be a sport
Your husband smokes. If it's right
for him, why not for your"
Mrs. Temple set her teeth and
crossed the Rubicon with a resolute
81 Wilt"
Mrs. Wellington led the timid
neophyte along the wavering floor of
the car and flung back the door of the
observation car. She found Ira Lath-
rop holding Anne Gattle's hand and
evidently explaining something Of
great importance, for their heads
were very close together. They rose
and with abashed faces and confused
mumblings of half swallowed explana-
tons, left the platform to Mrs. We'll
lington and her new pupil.
Shortly afterward Little Jimmie
Wellington grew FESTIVE and set out
for a brief constitutional and breath
of air. He carried a siphon to which
he had become greatly attached, and
made heavy going for the observation
room, but reached the door in fairly
good order. He swung 1t open and
brought in with It the pale and waver-
ing ghost OF Mrs Temple, who had
been leaning against 1t for much-need-
ed support. Wellington was stupefied
IN ohearva cmoka nouring roupd Me-