The Lakeland evening telegram. (Lakeland, Fla.) 1911-1922, 1915-08-12
LINDA MAKES PIES
BY CECIL THOMAS.

In the farmhouse kitchen Linda
Barnard rolled out pie crust and sang
like a bird at the top Of her sweet
soprano voice. Can she make a
cherry pie. Billy Boy, Billy Boy?"
and 80 on through several verses in
which were rehearsed the domestic
virtues Of Billy's fiancee.
And Linda was making cherry
pies herself. but her blithe song was
not addressed to any especial aud.
itor. She sang because she was
happy.
Upstairs in the largest front
chamber sat the first boarder of the
season. He was sitting at Q table
drawn up to the window, and he
was frowning over the pile Of papers
before him. He was not bothered
over the work-that was an ever
recurring joy-but it was Lindas fire.
quently, reiterated vocal query that
irritated him.
For heavens sake, can't a fellow
get away from a racket" he peeved.
Here I am isolated in Green Center
because my apartment was made
hideous with undesirable noises-a
mechanical piano overhead, a phono-
graph on one side and a cornet on
the other-and here the maid Of all
work chirps like a canary all day
long! But her voice isn't half bad"
he admitted grudgingly
oh 10 oharrx, viA n;1v1y
Boy?"
Billy wainwright put his head out
of the open window.
Take it from me she can make
cherry pie, Melissa he called
down at the gingham-clad figure work
ing the pump handle. Ring on"
He gasped as the sunbonnet dropped
back and bewitching face was up
turned to his
my name is not Melissa" she said
sweetly. Who is Melissa"
Billy's face was crimson, but his
chagrin added to his temper.
Il thought it was the COOK he said
snappishly.
isn't that funny?" gurgled Linda.
why, I'm the cook."
your" he gasped.
She nodded. I'm sorry you don't
like cherry pie" she added dolefully.
"But-but do like IT," he STAN
mered. TITS my favorite pie-that
and lemon meringue."
you like lemon meringue pie, too?
I'll remember that-and rice pud.
ding?"
Il loath it,"
"Prune pie?"
"Beastly."
I'm so glad to know what you ike"
Linda smiled wickedly as she went
into the house with a great pitcher Of
water.
Funny never saw her before
certainly she wasn't around last night
when I came" unused Billy as he
went back to his work. But the
papers had lost their charm. Linda's
charming face interviewed and he
found himself listening for the sound
Of her voice.
But the Billy song was silent; pres
emily there fiuted up through the
window the rich strains of q bird
song-a mellow. throaty MARBLE that
one associated with southern fields and
the call of the hooking bird.
II wonder" gasped Billy, going
inquisitively to the window that over
looked the side porch where the pump
stood.
He recognized old Mr.. Barnard be.
fore the kitchen door with q basket
Of new-laid eggs from the barn.
The whistling stopped abruptly.
"Whistling gals and Growing hens
never come to any good ends!"
laughed the old man through the
screen door.
you haven't any Growing hens on
the farm, Uncle Ben." said the girl
merrily. "or you wouldn't be bringing
in that evidence Of their industry"
Three dozen and three" counted
Uncle Ben, now inside the kitchen. Il
hope you're giving Mr.. wainwright all
the eggs he wants"
Certainly, dear" Billy heard her
answer. Isn't it odd, Uncle Ben, he
doesn't like cherry or lemon meringue
pie and he adores rice pudding?" She
laughed gleefully.
Billy shook his fist.
SWELL" yawned Uncle Ben III milk
puddings satisfy him, all right
there's plenty Of milk and eggs on
the place-but. for goodness sake,
keep the pies a-going, Linda. Um.um!
Do smell cherry pie?"
you surely dol" she cried gayly.
Hurry up. Uncle Ben. dinners most
ready"
Billy went back to his table frown.
ing.
III there's cherry pie in the place,
I'll have sonnet. he muttered darkly.
Presently chme the resonant clang
Of the dinner bell welded by Linda
strong, young arm.
Billy, scrubbed and brushed to
healthy, wholesome perfection, in his
gray flannels, found a small round
, table set for one in the middle of the
big dining room. 1t was an oasis in
the midst of a desert waste of rag
/ carpeted floor.
It is very lonely, indeed. to be the
first boarder. But Billy admitted to
himself that he had yearned for soil.
tude when he chose Green Center in
which to complete his story.