Alexandria gazette. [volume] (Alexandria, D.C.) 1834-1974, 1913-01-14
SHE GUT RID OF HIM
sy HELEN MILLER.

as they ate their noon sandwiches TO-
getner behind the files. 1T nearly
drives a girl crazy trying to discour-
age 'em. I don. know whether they
are SO stuck on themselves they can't
believe any human woman wouiGn
choke to death with JOY al being no.
ticed by them or whether they are just
ordinary stupid. Believe me, / know
after Mr. Blewer!"
Who's he?" asked the stenographer
from across the hall.
Him." inquired Miss Fattershall,
posing the remnants Of her ham sand
wich daintily in the air. why. Mr.
Elewer is the only one out Of cap
tivity, that's VINO IL is"-aud ne just
vailed sor handouts -: on BY me,
but | couldn't see it ~. way-not
with the prospect Of j.. avs getting
more Pay after New Years! Mr..
Blewer is tall and looks as though
he was vanished. You kno" that
kind-varnished collar an cuffs, an
hair al teeth an everything!
= don't believe ne ever sat down az
FOR his clothes were pressed till he
got to our house. ne"er saw sucn
a perfectly immaculate man. There
wasn't a thing 10 object to in that
line. lie was always just right and 1
guess that's why lie made me so
tired
He's manager for the third floor at
Pickles factory and he can take taxi
whenever he wants TO. That kind Of
dazzled me at first after hanging to a
street car strap all the way home,
but constant luxury soon pals.
81 treated that man to more varie-
tics OF snubs that you could count and
he lust hung around all the steadier.
When snapped his head off lie mere
" murmured that ne liked my spark
ling yivacity and when l sulked he
admiped my dignified reserve. TOT
cot engagements with him and lie kept
right on asking me. Why. do you
know. If I ever forgot 10 keep an en-
fragment with Jimmy he'd drop me
like hot potato You can't fool
with Jimmy! But Mr.. Blower. he Just
came right on. I'd keep him waiting
an hour while I dressed and when l
came down. instead Of his gnaWing
his cane with rage, Id find him COM
rortably reading a last months maya
zine.
IF he brought me flowers I'd pin
them on so they'd drop and get lost
before we were . Block away and
when il was CANDY I always gave it to
ny little brother before him, saying
I couldn't eat that variety OF bu1lbuns.
10 wasn't ashamed Of myself, be-
cause he might have had less ccccels
and more sense! a perfect lady hasn't
much of any way of telling a man he's
= bore and a back number with her
except by the indirect lighting sys-
fem-ard if he's as blind as bat
that isn't her fault!
We'll. had TO get rid Of Mr.. Blower
somehow, because Jimmy was begin
ming to paw the air and breathe hard
and didn't want any duel on our
front doorstep an my picture in the
papers labeled. Beautiful an wealthy
society girl, heroine of romanceH
Iot for me! l have a little pride
left.
How do you suppose got rid Of
Mr. BIewer-row. honesto Perfectly
simple, my dear, and I'm telling you in
case you get desperate some time.
same rs l was. l suddenly began
dropping hints to him what a wonder
fully fine cook was and how | hated
pounding a typewriter all day when
my soul just longed for a gas range
and a sack Of -four and recipe book.
I said the dream Of my life vas 10
have time to cook delicious things
that would melt in your mouth and
that sometimes when could persuade
mother to go and visit her sister |
got the dinner.
He actually suffered trying to say
fast enough that he'd like so much TO
be invited to one of my own dinners
some time, and after hesitating coyly
] said he might nave the chance soon.
Mother is peculiar-shes SO fright
f1lly honest-so had to get her out
of the house before I could turn the
trick. She nearly gave me heart dis
ease the last minute by saying she
guessed she wouldn't go to Aunt
Jessie's that day after all-but final.
" got her started. Maybe | didn't
rush home from the Office that night!
7 told my kid brother and sister that
If they so much as peeped at anything
they had to eat that night l was no
longer a sister Of theirs-and then
! set to work.
"Sugared the soup and spilled the
saItbox into the boiled cabbage and
burned the meat till it was like
leather and favored the gravy with
vanilla. I'd bet no cannonball was
ever harder'n the biscuit turned out
and made an apple pie that was
Iumpy and half done inside and not
sweet enough and with a doughty
tough crust-and if there's anything
worse than that I'd hate to have to