The Donaldsonville chief. [volume] (Donaldsonville, La.) 1871-current, 1914-09-12

edge: but when she opened her fiat
purse ne was inside that, as grim as
ever.
To make it worse, career was not
all she would leave behind when she
had spent all her money-all of It,
that is, except the price OF a ticket
70 her home In a certain New Eng
land village. Even to herself she
would not admit it, but there would
be another wrench when she saw the
last Of certain Wearer Of corduroy
| breeches, who, for all the air Of him,
might never have worn anything near
er creased trousers In his life. He
was Westerner, and the critics said
that ne painted "freer and bolder"
than any student In the big school.
Tom Graham and she had a paint
fng-room acquaintance which extend
ed to lunch-time, when they usually
nodded shortly to each other from OPP
posite ends of the same soda-fountain.
He lunched on egg concoctions, with
not chocolate and crackers to boot:
she, on matted milk
| There had been q time when Ann
used to have a sustaining egg put in
| her thin drink; but that was in the
| days OF her fathers remittances-
| prodigal days, when she spent as
much as twenty cents In carfare, on
| a Sunday to fill her lungs with Gods
| fresh air as it blew across the Hud-
son. When the remittances ceased,
instead Of eggs and car rides, she
bought baked beans and fresh paint
tubes. In fact, she kept reducing her
food outlay. nickel by nickel, until
sometimes she weakly wondered IL
after all courage doesn't depend on
! diet. She ought to have been told
that a tumbler Of matted milk isn't
enough to keep the blood in your
cheeks at noon, when your breakfast
has been two cold squares Of choco-
late. following a 15-cent dinner the
night before.
Then something strange happened.
Everybody noticed that Ann perked
up-especially the "mixologist" before
the fountain, who had often slipped
a little more than a fair ten-cents'
worth into her tumbler But this was
different: for now an egg appeared
daily, and sometimes two, while the
check she paid was the same.
Ann hated taking charity, even while
she swallowed 1t. She hated 1t only
while she was before the counter, how
ever. She forgot everything she want
ed to forget In the resulting power. It
leaked from her f1nger-ends to the
canvas for hours, on the day when
she had two eggs About this time
she sold drawing to a magazine,
and IN came another prize for her
work In oils.
One fall day, however, the keen
wind that raked Broadway helped Ann
through the door bodily. The mixol-
ogist looked her coat up and down,
then caught 1t between his fingers to
feel how thin It was
Pretty sharp breeze, miss" he said.
"You need a fur coat-one O. them
new dog-skins, now"
He stopped In the face Of Tom Gre
ham. who had come In for his lunch.
Ann, sensitive about her shabbiness,
choked over her egg and got out
quickly.
Later-an hour after Tom Graham
had left the counter-she came back
with 20 nickels In her humpy, frayed
black purse. It was nearly all the
money she had. She talked to the
mixologist with red face.
Here Is the money for the eggs.
Of course | expected to pay 1t as soon
as I could. Very, very much obliged.
I know there were just 20, for kept
track"
The mixer turned away.
didn't mean any ofPense about
that coat he said over his shoulder.
"Of course not. It Is getting cold"
We'll, and I wasn't responsible for
those eggs. either. It was the man
with the velveteen pants. He paid
me for en-
AIMS finances were In that critical |
state when the loss of dollar makes
the whole difference; so she closed
honorable mentions" blue ribbons,
and wrecked hopes into a home
bound trunk that evening, and thought
out note to Tom Graham meanwhile.
She lacked the nerve to go and thank
him.
When she opened the door to a
mans humping. late In the evening.
she even lacked the nerve-or the
Pood-to stand up. Tom Graham was
breathless after a climb Of three
flights. but he caught her to save
fall, and then, 70 save an explanation.
le told her he loved her.
It was enough for Ann when he said
that he couldn't see her
grow pinched for food any longer If
lie had tried. for women OF your sort
Ion't go hungry where came from"
Then ne drew hasty sketches of the
on his Colorado ranch all (
'ver her white paper.
They have built studio there now. t
Ine poor mans joy ride Is by troll.
ey.