The midland journal., 1914-08-21
CHAPTER /.
Paradise on Easy Terms.

Paradise on Easy Terms.
Young Mrs. Reynolds sat on the
steps of her new bungalow, home OF
her own with all the convenienoes Of
a city apartment hot and cold
water. modern plumbing. Only fifty
minutes from Herald square, yet re-
moved from the strife and turmoil Of
the crowded metropolis. A place to
rear children where they could romp
and play. Close to schools and
churches. Excellent markets. Half an
acre Of ground to raise her own vege-
tables and chickens. A fine view OF
the bay and plenty Of good air. A
spot to live as God meant her to live.
Only five hundred dollars down and
the rest the same as rent!
Glorious aggrandizement of subur-
ban life; vivid picture from the land
sharks brush. The painter struggles
TO express on canvas the subtle power
Of nature; with what facile flow OF
verbal coloring does this other artist
reveal its charm!
Jane wanted a home and SO did
Bob, her husband, and, with their linn
tied means, that meant home in the
suburbs. At the first inspection OF
this modern Elysium the agent per-
BuRded Reynolds to~invest. What bet
ter could they do, he argued. The
pretty little house, new and clean and
no easy to care for. And the land;
why, that alone was worth the price.
Think OF the saving garden would
mean and what Joy those new-laid
eggs! Jane, somehow, was not riot
ously enthusiastic, but Bob was and
she acquiesced The task Of moving
had fallen to her, for her husbands
duties kept him at the office even on
such momentous occasion as this.
'Oh. If the vans would only come, .
she sighed. What in the world can
have happened? 1t is four o'clock and
they promised to have them here by
noon"
Down the road, the one that the
Utopian Land company's map digni-
1ied as Sunset street, there appeared
a vision Of hope. "A soiled. swagger-
ing, red-faced, blue-aproned vision
There's one of the movers now,"
exclaimed the young wife. She ad-
vanced to meet him.
Goodness, what makes you so late?
Mr.. Green said you'd be here by
twelve o'clock. How will we ever get
moved In tonight?"
That's what's bothering me, mad
am. The trucks are down at the en-
trance to this paradise and RockefeI-
Ter himself doesn't own enough gaso-
line to get them up through the sand.
The boss said they was finished
streets They're finished the way they
were when Staten island was discov-
cred, but that's ALL We've been try
ing for hours, putting boards In front
Of the wheels, but it's no go. I've got
to get teams from somewhere. ThatIl
be extra. That's why came up to
see you. Is it all right?',
"Oh, don't know. guess so. You'll
have to settle that with Mr.. Reynolds.
But for mercy sakes do anything nee
.essary to get US moved In. I've waited
here for four hours"
'sWe1l do our best. ma'am, but it'll
take some time yet. And l don't
banker after many Of these Staten
ISLAND jobs"
Mrs Reynolds went back for another
inspection.
1T is pretty" she said, "but it's a
little lonesome. II they would only
hurry! And do wish Bob could have
got on. He would have stirred those
stupid men up some way"
She had spent the hours of her long
vigil planning a place for all their
goods and chattels. She had as COM
plete a picture of the ensemble as a
stage manager has of his setting. That
ought to expedite matters, she
thought, when the furniture did come.
After what seemed another intermi-
nable walt she sighted an approaching
wagon. 1t was an ordinary truckman's
cart such as is used in construction
work, 1t was piled high with bureaus,
tables. chairs and boxes in a jumbled,
anomalous mass that augured many
breaks and scratches.
''This Is the best could do, ma a'am, .
called the driver, as he brought the
load to q halt ct the door. There
p