Ottumwa tri-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1903-1916, 1915-08-24
Evening Story
PURSUING POLLY.
BY lola Forester.

Copyright, 1915, by the Mcclure News
paper Syndicate.
How do you think 'Rosamond Grey
would do?" Polly held up the unsigned
letter with a speculative air. TOO long
for electric display, isn't It? You
know. motherkin, just as sure as shoot
ing some day my name will be right
out in front of theaters, sparkling and
dazzling the natives -"
Smoke up!" came a deep rumble
from the couch where Peter slumbered
or pretended to, during the family
council.
Pete, you keep out of this" iared
up Polly in hasty sisterly resentment.
Somebody's got to do something, and
don't see you hustling around. We're
In a state Of siege with fate and for
tune, perched like a couple OF crows on
a tree, waiting for us to give up. |
won't give up. I'm going straight down
to New York, find Aunt Eudora Phelps
and make her give me Cinderella
cot in her top garnet while I'm hunt
ing a place. where my genius will be
appreciated"
Pete grinned happily. He was fifteen
and life held few complexities.
"Bet cookie Buell. hasn't been ask
T., ed to give his consent"
! Polly bent over her desk industri-
ously 80 the family could not observe
her face.
II can get 1902 train that gets me
in - let's see about 2:45 that after
noon. like that one"
I'm sure Eudora won't approve ut
all. Polly" her mother remarked, rath-
er plaintively. ;.
"Well, neither do you approve,
laughed Polly, going over to kiss her
"But when folks really love you they
/ let you do what Is most conducive to
your own happiness. It's terrible to
have people always trying to make you
happy in their way"
Like a certain party we know" IN
terjected Peter He sat up, ran his
fingers through his towseled hair and
beamed at Polly like a benevolent imp
II don't see what you want to rush on
to New York for. You won't make
good, Polly. You girls think after
yous sung in the choir In dinky little
town like Waneota all you have to do
Is get up on a stage and be a prima
donna quicker'n scat. Buell. says -
II don't care to hear It, Peter"
what on earth have you got against
Buell. Abbott? Rising young lawyer;
and, by Jimmy, he will rise sure
enough. He's going up in an aeroplane
"For PHYS sake!" exclaimed Mrs
Wadleigh. Polly looked at Peter with
doubt and suspicion in her eyes and
the time table in her hand.
HE is. heard him talking to some
fellows at the postofflce and he said
he'd Just as soon go as not"
Polly went out Of the room with her
nose tilted at rather scornful angle
It was quite like Buell. to say such g
thing in Pete's hearing to be sure It
reached her ears and would make heH
worry about him.
Polly decided that nothing could
ever make her worry or trouble herself
again about Mr.. Abbott. She was not
interested in his goings or comings, OF
ascensions for that matter. Safe In
her own room, she stood before the
oval mahogany framed mirror, and
looked at the face that stared SO
haushtily, 80 uncompromisingly back
at her. The eyes were very blue
startlingly blue, with dark lashes and
eyebrows, and her hair, too, was dark
Polly liked to take 1t and pile it high
on her head, with few loose curls at
her temple and ears, like picture OF
the Empress Josephine she had cut
from a magazine and pinned on the
wall. It was a pity some one had not
planned an opera around Josephine.
she thought. She would have loved
singing arias Of defiance at some
stocky Napoleon.
Buell. was rather -ztocky. Tall, but
broad shouldered and rather inclined to
take things too easy. Yes, that was
exactly the whole trouble, Polly de
cided for the hundredth time. He did
not have a thrill OF romance or temper
mental excitement in his whole make
up. He took everything for granted
He had even taken her for granted
come to think of 1t.
! 1t had always seemed natural for
Buell. to be her sweetheart, natural
for him to ask her quite casually one
evening few months ago, Which side
of the railroad track do you want to
live on, Polly, after we're married."
That was the way Buell. proposed
spoke of the divine fire of love In his
heart And it was Buell. all over.