Cut Bank pioneer press. [volume] (Cut Bank, Mont.) 1909-current, 1914-12-11
The Governors
IT Nv A Negotiation Of
Lazy Alice Bradley's Play
BY GERTRUDE STEVENSON
Illustrations from Photographs Of the Stage Production
oopynsns, lSa pubnOaslOn Rights Reserved, By David Belasoo.
Bv GERTRUDE STEVENSON

All big crises in life are the re-
suits of trifles. It took the merest
incident to crystalline SHADES thought
into action. Mary had picked up a
portion OF the paper after 1t had
dropped from her husbands hands.
She started to read the printed page
with all the serious Importance of a
little child trying to do something
very big and grown-up.
Suddenly her ayes lighted with
pleasure and a tender smile of pride
and delight Illuminated her features.
In turning the pages she had sud-
denly discovered a picture of her hus-
band, under which she read q simple
but significant line:
Daniel S. Slade, a Possible Cover
nor"
ooh, Dam" she cried, happily. isn't
this a fine picture of you. l could
almost imagine it was going to speak
to me-"
Then she paused a little wistfully
and doubtfully before she asked:
But do o really want to be gov
ernor?"
WduL 10 De
Slade caught his breath as he re-
peated her question.
Want to be-when every aim and
ambition the last few years had been
made in the one direction, toward
the n longed-for goal-political
power! Want to be--when years be-
fore he had turned his eyes on the
i 0nxynrnAr1o ahat~ ~ L-I 49, -
thing grimly, silently, persistently
toward that end aver since! Want to
be--when that was his one ambition,
the one thing he had yet to achieve!
He sighed YEARLY to himself. That
Mary could ask that question was the
best proof of how ~irrevocably they
had drifted apart. Living in the same
house with him, eating at the same
table, day after day at his side, the
little m knew no more. of his
real self or his ambitions than the
merest stranger.
TITS a nice story about yer, Dan,"
Mary vent on, all unconscious of the
struggle going'on just a few feet away
from her-the struggle between the
heart of a man that calls out to the
companion Of his youth, the sharer of
his joys and struggles and the brain
of a man that demands the glory of
power and the fulfIment of ambition.
But, Dam" questioned Mary's
gentle little voice. who's The Cover
nor's Lady?"
His wife, of course" snapped Slade.
What does it say about your"
He reached over and took the paper
from her hands, leaned forward ca
gerly toward the light and frowned
as he read:
Should Daniel S. Slade, the ex.
miner, ex-towE marshal, ex-sheriff. ex.
United States marshal, ex-land boomer
and multimillionaire, arrive, it will be
interesting to see the governors lady
busting the gubernatorial chair-prob
ably the only occupation c~ongenial to
this ~kind-hearted and plain little
woman"
busting the gubernatorial chair
Slade repeated mockingly, cut to the
quick by this public allusion to his
wife's p%lainness and lack of socia.
graces.
That simple little phrase, singing
as 1t was brief, was as a match fame
to dry timber. 1t was all that was
necessary to bring the hot rage SURG
ing through him to the boiling point
/ The sweetness of the little woman's
expression, the tenderness of her eyes
/ whenever they rested upon him, thu
plaintive softness of her voice mean
, nothing to him then. Through angry
. eyes he saw only the lack of smart
, ness In her somber brown dress, onl,
: the note of a%bsurdity she struck annie
: the exquisite surroundings Of tn,
room he had furnished for her. H,
thought of nothing but the sorry spec
tacle she would make at a brillian
: dinner or smart function where beau
tiful women in fashionable chiffonI
chatted freely and easily Of men an.
d things in the progress of the nation
This is some of Wesley Merritt
; tin-horn footing writing" growle,
t Slade. "D-n his dirty work."
AS her husband muttered to him
o self, Mary had calmly resumed he
Q endless mending of socks, long year
I OF thrift and saving making It impos
9 sible for her to throw away even
well-worn pair In spite Of the fac
that the need for repairing had Ion
# since passed.
d Slade found himself looking at tn
d little woma who had been his wifi
for twenty years, through lean year
n and hard years, as faithful and D,
tient then as later, when success frs
began to come his way, very much a
ID he might have s~crutinized an entir
a, stranger. Fol a moment the TRACED
ID Of their present state caught at hi
10 soul, and he felt the infinite pathc
of the woman's predicament. A softe
note came into his voice as he aske
a. slowly:
Say, haven't you got any clothe
n Mary? Haven't you any of the thins
n other ONE wear at night-silk /
lace or RULES or-whatever the
I'd are?"
ID Eyes, I've got EN-" Mary reptile
W. indiferently, but It's too cold