News and citizen. [volume] (Morrisville, Vt. ;) 1881-current, 1915-05-05
BETTY AT THE FAIR
Letters of the Panama. Pacific Expo
sition by Florence Livingston
LETTER III
SAN FRANCISCO, -
Concluded from last week


on nptoe, of responding to the world
wide thrill of competition, could not
bring myself down to calm appreci-
alton of things that stayed quiet. If the
Palace OF Industry could have gathered
up its enormous weight and jaunted
down to the stock yards, should have
tagged merrily on behind and thought it
a fitting climax of the day.
For. week 1 have been struggling
with the problem of Joe. He might
have dropped from the sky for all the
trace could get of his previous history,
but it didn't seem human to push him
out into the street and shut the door,
Yesterday tried to make life so weari-
some for HIM that he would be glad to
tell me where he came from.
First orded break fast-dry toast and
hot milk-sent up to our sitting room,
but Joe sided into his chair, tucked his
napkin into his collar, letting it stick up
in big white ear on each side till he
looked like an Easter rabbit, SIN I'D
radiantly, and said ".This is cozy,
amt i?"
was discouraged, but didn't give up.
l wrote letters all the morning, ordered
the plainest lunch, and in the afternoon
mended a lot of things that didn't need
it. There was nothing in the room that
could possibly interest child, but Joe's
never wavered. He showed
the uneartbly sweetness of the satellites
that whirl patiently around a successful
politician. Late in the day, however, |
noticed he was comparing his ciothee
with mine, and realized his suspicion
that was keeping him a prisoner be.
cause | was ashamed of him. | covered
my remorse with severity.
"Joe, don't you know that you're do
ing the wrong thing? You are making
yourfolks anxious and un happy."
Huh! Nobody cares-'less it's Mr..
Jim."
I pricked up my ears. "Who is Mr..
Jim?"
No reply.
"Or is he Chinaman?" 1 asked, my
hopes falling as recalled the Western
way of clubbing Mongolian by an easy
name.
Joe's bright eyes rolled shrewdly.
He's got another name, but faint nee
essary. Besides, he added, with droop
Of his lips, nobody ever took so much
care of me as you have. guess you
like me, don't your"
l couldn't stand the wistful look of
hunger in his trusting brown eyes, and
dashed into my own room until l could
recover my firmness. They tell me there
are excellent moving pictures at the Elk.
position, showing the process of max
steel. 1 must see them aud learn how it
g done, but / have sneaking notion
hat they don't begin with the human
heart.
When l went back, Joe was busy. /
stole up softly and found that he had |
AIKEN big needle and thread from my
sewing bag and was pulling together
hole in the knee of his trousers, whip
ping the ridge into. segments with the
heavy thread till it looked like a gro
tesque caterpillar.
That finished me, dad. whisked the
forlorn youngster to the nearest clothing
store and wrapped layers of cotton wool
around my conscience by buying him
complete new outfit, even adding an In
yersoll for good measure. Then 1 led
most bewildersd and radiant little boy
into the hotel dining room, and gave him
a blissful evening.
The sad part was the sinister plan I'M
derneath. 1 simply had to return Joe to
his own family. and l had decided to
take him out to the Exposition again
and deliberately lose him.
Fate was with me today. We walked
through the Court of Flowers, where a
sea of golden daffodils nodded gayly
above red anemones, and emerged into
the Court of Abundance, going from one
glory into another. Father dear can you
imagine two whole acres of pink n.y.
acinths, spraying the air with their fra
grance2
"IrsIfairyland, joe, cried. "This |
must be where the fairies live. and at |
night -"
But Joe had wiggled around behind /
me. Then noticed young man and :