The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1915-05-31
The Euening Story
POlIy'S Holiday.

|
Andrews" said her landlady from an
open doorway.
II have a holiday, Mrs. Jones-a
whole day to myself. The office is
is to be buried this afternoon
"Humph!'' shifted Mrs. Jones.
Seems if Brown Brothers could give
you a holiday now and then without
lwaiting for someone to die"
They are always so busy, you
know" apologized Polly. I'm not
going to lose another minute of the
day. I'm going into the country and,
will change all my life. Do you be-
lieve in fairies. Mrs. Jones?" she ask
ed mischievously.
81 don't believe in nothing I don't
see, and you're more likely to meet
a tramp than anyone else," said Mrs.
Jones glConily.
Polly laughed and went out into
the blazing sunshine. The pavements
were hot and there was not even
cooling Whit of air.
She boarded a car and went to the
Pennsylvania station. There she
bought ticket for Long Island viii
lage whose name sounded agreeable
and, forty-five minutes later, Polly
Andrews was leaving the station and
hurrying towards fields of waving
daisies, for there was a strong breeze.
with glimpse of blue water in the
distance.
Gaining the field, Polly sat down
ed her shoes and tossed her hat aside.
| This day was made for me-" she
said contentedly. "By and by I'm go
ing to sit out in the middle Of the
Jones'" She laughed at the idea.
Presently she left her hat, parasol
and lunch beneath the tree and
pumped herself down in the midst
of the sea of daisies
The breeze ruffled her golden hair
and the sun glinted on its fine strands
In her pale blue trock Polly Andrews
was a picture fair to see. ,++,.
there, that IS just right-just hold the
pose for an instan MT
Polly's chin jerked up and her blue
ewes haughtily regarded the young
man under her apple tree who was
rapidly sketching before an easel.
Are you drawing my picture ?" in
quired Polly, in a freezing tone.
| ct have finished it, he said calmly.
Il think YOU are very impertinent.
You should have asked my Permls-
sion first" s.
Would you have granted my re-
quest?' he retorted.
"Of course mott" cried Polly, ana
| then they both laughed.
IF YOU insist" he said gravely, Il
will destroy it, but it was really too
tempting-just the thing for a maya
zine cover
Pm afraid you'll have to find an
other idea decided Polly, but
should like to see it first before you
destroy IT.
The artist did not tell Polly that he
had no intention of destroying the
made another one just from memory,
so vivid was his mental picture of the
| girl among the daisies.
He came across the space and,
watching him, Polly thought she had
never seen such a lazily graceful
young man. His clothes were rather
worn and shabby, and she wondered
| if he might not be very poor indeed.
Perhaps he actually needed the money
he would get for that picture
Here it is" he said, placing the
sketch in her hands.
Polly looked at it gravely. How
clever he must be to transfer the sum-
mer day and Polly herself to paper!
Il suppose-it wouldn't make much
difference if you destroyed it," haz-
arded Polly.
He nodded. "It would make q diff
ference" he admitted. Il wish you
would give me permission to finish it
Polly looked at his shabbiness-his
in his hand.
It hope it may bring you good
luck" she said simply.
You are brick!" he cried warmly.
81 just knew I'd meet fairies today
and have some good luck!"
Then you believe in fairies, too?"
asked Polly. II came out here to find
| them. This is my holiday"
They have found you all right"
said the artist confidently. DO you
mind telling me about your holiday"
Polly told him, and after he had
talked a little about the flowers and
the view from a nearby hill he lifted
his hat and went away.
The rest of the day seemed quite
dull and lonely, but Polly finished her
daisy chain for Mrs. Jones and ate her
lunch. Afterward she lay down among
the daisies and stared dreamily into
the cloudless sky.
After awhile an inquisitive COW
poked her head within an inch of
Polly's pink cheek and she jumped up
with a frightened cry.
The adventure of the COW was the
only blot on a perfect day, Polly told
Mrs Jones that night, and Mrs. Jones,
holding the daisy chain in manner
that betrayed the fact that she didn't
know what on earth to do with it,
nodded briskly and said it was a won
der Polly had escaped with her life.
The next morning Polly returned
to her desk at Brown Brothers, but
the memory of her holiday fingered
with her many a day when the Office
was hot and stuffy.
one September morning a book |
keeper in Polly's office laid a well
known woman's magazine on the desk. |
There's your double, Miss An
drews," laughed Miss Reed.
Polly stared down at the picture of
herself among the daisies. The whole |
scene rushed back as she viewed the
picture-the cloudless sky, the daisy |
field, the distant glimpse of the sea,
and Polly herself making a daisy
chain.
The artists name was in the corner
Alex Bedan.
Alex Bedan-Pollys heart thumped
noisily. Why, she had heard of him. |
He was a great illustrator He couldn't
be her poor and needy painter Of the
shabby clothes!