The Detroit times., 1913-07-21

little TO help Sometimes | think !
ought TO work-perhaps clerk al Dick
inson's grocery"
He smiled az the idea OF Aurelia.
the wild hawk. clerking. She would
not stand il q day Then he WINGED.
He thought OF Elise. the grocers
daughter. and her amiable patroniz'
ing OF the town girls who worked
there Of his mother giving her orders
Of morning from the surrey 10 some
young woman who brought ont a
scoopful OF sugar for inspection and
apologized for delay Aurelie-she
would throw II into the customers
face If she fancied a slight,
She read his thoughts. You think
couldn't. don't you? Oh, boy, could
for YOU. You hold me from being
rebellious and ridiculous. ! could just
do anything for you--run away with
you, or 20 TO work-just anything
He felt her trembling in his arms
Sometimes, Aurelie. think we ought
10 go down 10 the house and make a
clean breast of IT, Tell them every
things-that ! love you, dear"
Her voice choked with gratefulness
fee he was making But now the pros
pect frightened her "Oh, no-not
yet Your father-hed hate me now
Hate you2 Why. Aurelie. he'd
help you, Maybe he'd get a place for
you at the housekeeping books or
something. But you can't keep books.
You're all lightness and temper and
lovableness--you'd have 10 have the
outdoors. or you'd not live. But II
you did have place that would pave
the way for you'--he hesitated. won
dering how 10 say Il and not hurt her
absurd pride-"raise you, so that
some day people would sort Of for
GET"
Forget"
Where YOU came from, dear. Down
the river wiSh Old Michigan-and that
yon haven't even name except
borrowed one from Lindstrom He
laughed TO smooth II over-"Oh. but
it's funny You're wild hawk,
Aurelie | remember when you used
20 come into town with Knute 10 sell
rabbits, and the coolest winter day
you always had bit of bright leaf
stuck somewhere about you-like an
first. Then | forgot all about you
and went away 10 college. and when
| next heard you were In high school
and then this year I met you in the
hills here"
And made me love you, Harlan.
Oh. II wasn't right--it wasn't right"
Then In the way OF all men and
all lovers, he laughingly kissed and
comforted her They went down a
moon-filled glen and up slope, and
there the silent town lay. the court
house tower white as silver above the
robing trees. Sinsinawa was tinkling
down from the highlands az their feet,
and across II a trail lay to the first
street at the foot Of the bluff In a
window Of a cottage tucked at the
foot Of the rock. they saw the blur
OF lamp. and he knew il was Wiley
Curran idling over his editorials. for
the graceless renegade OF Rome had a
way OF turning night into day and
writing or wasting hours when decent
folk were all abed
And when II seemed that he was
about 10 leave her AT this accustom-
ed parting place. she chung TO him
suddenly whispering: Take me with
you-oh. take me with you, | can't
let you go--oh. can't"
She held so tightly 70 him that he
could not go IF he had tried. and af-
ter long vain comforting. murmuring
10 her all he had said a hundred times,
he slowly unfolded her arms and look.
ed down at her intently A sense OF
her 9rea. loneliness without him.
without her school. without the bit
OF aspiration and OF vague hope she
had come 70 find. touched him as II
had never done before.
"Aurelie." he muttered Il can't
do that-you know | can't ! must
finish school and buck into work Be-
fore I-l-marry you he blurted.
tenderly. But you ought 70 have
place-something TO do and-be
while we're waiting dear And I'm