The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1914-11-30
The Eoe,1i,ae Story
Polly Perkins.

SeSS (SesS&8 >9 II
Polly Perkins.
(By Catherine Coope.)
No one would have stigmatized
Polly Perkins az being insane. Ec-
centric, mentally unbalanced she cer-
tainly was and another couple OF
years might possibly see her comfort
ably ensconsed in q homo for incur
ables- For the present she was hap
PLY II Whimsically dOmlcfled In tiny
cottage on Long Island. Miss Pollyss
mental state was the cause of rude
tests from village children and one OF
amused interest to older minds. Week.
end guests were sure to be taken past
the abode OF Polly Perkins just as
they were invariably RECALLED by the
story Of the haunted house ON the old
farm road.
She's dippy on the subject Of
pink said Jimmy Rogers a. he
strolled past Miss Perkins cottage
with Bob Hawthorne after a swim in
the sound.
laughed Hawthorne as he eyed with
amused glance the pink-painted cot
tage. the pink flower gardens, pink
gate posts and outbuildings. IT sup
pose she has pink bows on all the live
stock" he commented.
:. Sne surely mas cnuchAeo jimmy
every living chicken in the barnyard
has q pink bow on his neck
you're 5oking!" exclaimed Haw-
thorne, but at that moment the cluck.
cluck of the discussed birds an
nounced their presence and both men
laughed aloud. A most tidy little
flock OF chickens, each bird wearing q
away over Miss Polly's front lawn.
II don't call that eccentric. call
it plain Cracked" said Hawthorne.
What kind of a freak is this Polly
Perkins?'' he asked.
Not SO much Of a freak as you'd
expect" said Jimmy as they moved
along along. the n., street; &c, of course r she she
half bad under the pink sun bonnet
she wears about the garden You
know she writes stories and things for
the magazines"
THAT accounts for it," said Haw-
thorne; they are nearly all dippy on
that the two men fell into a discussion
Of the yacht races being held at the
club and promptly forgot all about
Polly Perkins and her chickens.
1t was not until a few days later that
Hawthorne. lolling in Jimmy Rogers
hammock, looked up to see lone
chicken clucking away and pecking
contentedly for vermin in Rogers we'll
kept lawn. The chicken had a more or
less, ,bedraggled pink bow on its neck
that sadly interfered at times with the
capturing Of dainties from the soft soil.
''Hello!' exclaimed Hawthorne, draw
ing himself UP from his most comfort
able position the better to look at the
hen. If you haven't strayed from Miss
Perkins pink domain I'll eat my hat"
. And because Bob Hawthorne was a
trifle bored with his own society and
f0vst1 nCS p1YV roQ r6fnNr tho ar
centric Miss Perkins. he decided to
make a martyr Of himself and take the
straying bird home.
He had little difnculty in catching the
chicken Evidently Miss -Perkins' hens
were more in the nature Of pets than
table delicacies. He wondered IL each
and every bird had q name such as
Florabelle or Sylvia or even Peter Per-
kfns. He supposed they would have.
After q few moments of reconn0tt-
ering he discovered much to his sur.
prise that wing Of Miss Perkins
property practically adjoined that of
Jimmy Rogers. He climbed the lat
ter's fence and found himself facing
the back Of a pink chicken coop. Haw-
thorne laughed shortly and would have
toration OF Miss Perlkins' poultry to
Its owner, save that a sharp turn
around the fence brought him into the
awkward position Of having tripped
over q pink-clad figure. She was lying
flat on her back among the tall grasses
breath. The chicken flew madly out
Of his slackened clutch and the pink
clad one opened startled eyes that
were smiling with recent dreams
Hawthorne's Conversational ability
DEPTHS lost. 81 Ssa ssss only oeS
and stared down at her. If eli men,
tally unbalanced people were no lovely
to look upon as Polly Perkins. Haw-
thorne hoped he would meet many of
that variety ON his life's path.
you've no right to be snoring In
that wet grass" he saidLthat happen-
ing to be the only thought he seemed
able to give voice to.
Il was not snoring. and the grass II
az dry as q BONE" the girl said with
asperity. She had arisen to q sitting
posture and was endeavoring to coax
back the frightened chicken. II don't
know why-all men think that every
blade Of grass In the universe is con-
tfnually wet anyway. Men creatures
invariably think OF sneexing and rheu-
matism instead Of electricity and re-
newed life coming out of the gras8."
She had got the chicken back by
continued coaxing the while she was
addressing her remarks to Hawthorne
and was petting 1t with two charmingly
white hands. Hawthorne found him
self wishing himself the bet chicken Of
m eccentric writer person whose man.
~ was an overfondnese for pink.
Are you Miss Polly Perkins ?" he
asked. when her wide-open eyes again
r0amed toward his face. He wanted
to make sure Of her identity.
yes. / ann she said. rs there
anything else you would like to know,
Rude Person ?" she inquired with . Pc
culiArly disconcertfng frAnknesz.
Hawthorne stiffened perceptibly;
then. remembering Miss Perkins mem
tai condition, smiled IN what he sup