The Clio messenger. (Clio, Mich.) 1907-current, 1914-12-11
By NINA WILCOX PUTNAM
copyright by Bobbs-Nerrill Coz

| pSdI, ahu culoIBiuB upOu q Wiuo oint-
ternly avenue, pushed back Slated
swinging door. and entered a saloon.
There were shining mirrors within,
and polished woods, with a fine bar,
all arrayed with glasses and bottles in
decorative and tempting array. Here
was a group of men in a post-midnight
mood. hilarious and ready to part with
small change. Sam made Mr.. Jones
dance for them. turn somersaults. sit
in an armchair and hold a pipe be-
tween his teeth. kiss him, be dead, and
perform many other intellectual feats
beyond the common requirement Of
bears. The fruit of this effort was
only sixty-one cents.
Then Sam strolled away, ever
toward the river, in northerly direc-
ton that would ultimately lead toward
the open country. And all the while
Iris filled his heart and mind, as, in
deed, she had done almost every mo-
ment since his angry parting from her.
1t came to pass, that, being occupied
with the thought of red-haired girl,
such as bore locks of similar color
arrested his eye more frequently and
with more personal interest than did
any other type; and SO 1t followed in
a natural sequence, that when he
caught sight Of Titan head (elab-
orately puffed, and curled, to be sure,
and quite unlike Iris cleaning braids)
behind the confusion of feminine ar
ticles of apparel In the window of a
tiny notion shop, he fancied a resem-
blance, and stopped to stare. And
equally inevitable was 1t that she
should feel that stare through the win
dow glass and over the mass of articles
therein displayed, as people have a
way of feeling stare; and looking up,
she smiled upon the handsome gentle
man whose gaze. was riveted upon her.
She was no more like unto Iris than
the cinnamon-pink to the ascension
lily; nor was she at all pretty. But
Sam obeyed sudden impulse and en-
tered the tiny shop, followed by Mr..
Jones.
Together they stood before the little
counter upon which were piled coarse
stockings, underwear with cheap lace
trimming, unsubstantial neckwear,
boxes of ruching, Bingham aprons and
| bandannas. She stood there, saying
nothing, but smiling. What should he
ask for? II was awkward, decidedly.
Yet here he was, and somehow or
other the situation must be managed.
Very vaguely he uttered what seemed
to him an inanity.
Il would like some buttonholes,"
he stammered, and then blushed furi-
ously at having said such nonsense.
But the young lady seemed In no.
wise disconnected by the extraordinary
request.
white or blackr she inquired
calmly.
"Eh?" said Hill incredulously.
II said, did you wish white or black
buttonholes?" she smiled.
"But-but, great Scott! You don't
mean to say you actually have 'emT
gasped Sam.
"Of course. This is notion shop;
didn't you read the sign?"
Motion shop! / should say 1t was!
How the deuce can a hole have a
color? Is that one of the notions?"
said he.
81 thought you didn't really want
Them" said the girl, "but we do keep
'em-embroidered on strips, you know,
of black or white stuff-and you sew
'em in!"
"Ohl" said the enlightened male,
would you really not mind IL don't
have any, though? 1 don't really need
them. You see, you smiled. so
| just
so guessed" said the girl. but 1t
amt any use. I'm engaged"
"Ah!" said Hill, suddenly relieved Of
the absurd situation which he had
brought upon himself. Then he added
calamity: You don't expect me to be
surprised, do you? He is such a very
lucky fellow!"
"He Is a rover" she said plaintively.
"a what?" queried Hill politely.
"A wanderer on the face of the
EARTH" she elucidated. "He is In the
lunch-wagon business, and not havin'
| u regular SIdnu, IL tdkeS ulm 10 QlS-
tant parts lot You seem to be the
sort that travels, too," she added, you
an the bear. Amt he the cute little
| feller!"
Hill gave huge sigh. and looked at
her sentimentally.
II wish you would say as much to
me-" he told her sweetly, and then felt
almost as much of an ass as he looked.
But the lady spurned him with the
air of a tragedy queen.
"You shouldn't ought to say such
things" said she loftily. mo matter
what chances offer, am ever true to
Mr.. Lovejoy."
'Mr. Lovejoy takes great risk In
being away so much" he added; some
day he will return to find that you
have been stolen, kidnapped, Miss,
Miss :"
"Call me Lola" said she; my name
Is Lizzy Hinkle, but l like Lola La
Fargo better. read 1t In q book"
ssMisa Ia FarRe Won are n won Oar I"