The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1915-05-03

Have you heard from Dick?"
Mollie asked the question over
the phone this morning before ]
was up. l was not feeling very
well and had decided to rest
quietly until noon.
II have only had wire," ]
answered.
Mother is very much con-
cerned and wants me to ask you
to wire Dick to write or telephone
Jacks condition"
"My dear Mollie, your mother
has Dicks address. Tell her to
send him any wire she wishes. i
am still in bed and feel that she
has more time and is in better
health than / am
| suppose l ought to have sent
this telegram, but to tell the truth
I did not feel equal to the endless
discussion over the phone which
would ensue il took 1t on myself
to do SO.
I'm awfully sorry you are i'll,
Margie. was going to ask you
to come downtown and lunch
with me-"
Come up and dine with me in
stead"
We'll. | think l will. Mother
Is going to the missionary meet
Ing and will stay at the church
dinner. / want to see you very
much. have much to tell you;
have been to call on Mr.. Hatton."
"Alone?"
Yes, he sent for me, and dear
Mother Nora met me at the door,
but / can't tell you about it over
the phone> I'll be up to dinner"
! was quite excited after Mollie
told me this, for | was anxious to
know what Mollie' was going to
do.
The day had settled down into
Q steady rain and l was alone all
the afternoon. love the rain,
little book. / can't understand
anyone's not loving it. So many
people say Its rainy day" as
though it were calamity, but
the soft gray of slow-falling rain,
yes, even the windy gusts that
sigh and storm about me holds
Q charm for me that the sunniest
day cannot rival.
| remember distinctly of being
out in southern California during
one rainy season and | guess en-
deared myself to the native sons
by adoring their weeping skies
and never firing of the gray mists
that settled over the mountains.
You see, l am a little super
stitious about the rain, little book,
for most of my good times came
to me on rainy days. The night
Dick told me he loved me 1t rain
ed in perfect torrents, and l will
tell you, little book, that l expect
the day my baby comes to me it
will rain. l hope 1t will, for
always feel a kind of happiness
and strength when it rains that !
never have on any other times.
Today, during the rain, have
not felt so hurt at Dicks neglect
to write to me as I did yesterday
when the sun was shining. These
days which almost always bring
the blue devils to everyone else
make my heart sing.
1T is not raining rain to me
It's raining daffodils you see"
| expect, little book, that most
people would say that was fool
ish to be SO superstitious about
the weather, but why not cherish
a little superstition IL it be q
pleasant one? Just now I try to
dwell on every lonely thought Of
yesterday for / want my red
headed, freckle-faced sonny to be
. more placid and less tempera-
mental sort of a creature than his
mother.
I want to give him strength to
face the real.
Most of us, both men and
women, shun fact from infancy.
We live on fiction and myth
and call it imagination. 1t is
only when we escape from the
stern realities into Hope, Belief,
Fable, Art, Immortality, Alcohol,
Love that we are happy. Given
Imagination, which Is our hungry
souls, we must have something to
feed upon. And SO because this
food is unreal in life something
is always wanting and our souls
30 begging-begging for that
which shall assuage our hunger
In vain.
No, no, little book, I am not
wishing that / had not imagina-
ton. am not wishing that /
could not suffer, for those who
cannot suffer can neither really
feel the joy OF living.
Here comes Mollie.
t CONTINUED Tomorrow