The Arvada enterprise., 1914-01-08
The MOUSE TRAP
Another Proof That Ais Well
That Ends Well, in the
Course of True Love.

duotHS liie eil'iaS iooi' "A az
sentmindedly took book from the
table. Seating herself in the chintz-
covered chair by the window, she
opened the book at random and
these words met her gaze: "The man
who makes the best mousetrap will
find beaten path to his door even
though he live in the midst of for
est Jane reread the lines again
and again, and finally her eyes wan
dered to the garden, which stretched
in colorful beauty beyond the win
dow. She remained immovable for
several minutes engaged in deep
thought, and then voice softly
called her name. She dropped the
book and fastened to answer the
summons of her invalid mother. 1t
was many hours before Jane returned
to the sitting room, and then she
opened the old mahogany desk, in
the far corner, and began to add up
the bills which had arrived in the
mornings mail. Since the death OF
her father, two years previous, Jane
had assumed the responsibilities of
the household and had never revealed
TO her mother that there was compar-
atively little money remaining in the
bank after the funeral expenses had
been paid She sighed as she placed
the three figures, representing the
doctors bill, to the column, added ii
up carefully and then wrote out the
checks. When this was completed
she gave the little boy next door a
bright new penny to post them.
Jane was only twenty-five, IN.
usually pretty and possessed of E
naturally buoyant nature that knew
no quclling. She passed through the
hedge into the garden, her thoughts
concentrating themselves on a plan
by means of which the family Golfers
could be reflled. The quotation
from Emerson required to her anG
she repeated it softly while gather,
ing bouquet of spice pinks. "Sinc,
| cannot make mousetraps, | shal
have 10 substitute something else
Now what can | do we'll?
Nothing but baking My pies,
cookies and layer cakes are always
delicious and sell readily at the
church fairs, so from now on l shall
supply anyone who cares to buy my
wares" These were the thoughts of
Jane as she pulled one pink after an
other until the bed was almost shorn
of its fragrant treasure. She buried
her face in the cool blossoms and re-
entered the house to minister to her
mothers needs.
The next day Jane wrote notes tc
her friends informing them that she
would fill any orders to furnish
pastry for parties, picnics or for gen.
cral use. She also asked the post.
master to recommend her to the cot.
tagers' who came to Hillside during
the summer months.
One morning the postmaster,
while handing her the mail, said :
"Miss Jane, there's an artist living
in the Porter bungalow and he will
be glad to have you serve him with
pies and cakes. He wants bread also
so if you can spare him a loaf now
and then he will be glad to buy it.
told him how you couldn't be beaten
when it comes to baking, so the next
time you make pies or cakes bear him
in mind"
"Thank you, Mr.. Martin, shall. ="
smiled Jane as she took the several
letters, which proved to be orders.
That afternoon she packed a small
basket containing a loaf Of bread, n
rhubarb pie and some cookies, in
structing little Jimmy Case to dcliv-
er them at the Porter bungalow.
Two days later Jane, in a blue
gingham frock and white apron,
with sleeves rolled above her elbows,
vas rolling out the yellow dough for
sugar cookies when a man stood in
the doorway and timidly knocked.
"Will you come in, please2" said
Jane. "My hands are covered with
flour and dare not open the door"
The man responded to her request
and entered the kitchen. 81 knocked
several times at the front door and.
getting no response, decided to take a
chance on coming 10 the back. You
see, | knew some one was here, for
there is no Disgusting the odor of