The Tacoma times. [volume] (Tacoma, Wash.) 1903-1949, 1915-02-02
Geo. right 1914, ny the News
paper Enterprise Associati0E.l

/ thhc my tuuchtUH tTOHi ouS
until two O'Clock as Mr.. Hatton
goes out at that time"
''All right. Mollie, I'll be-
where do you want to meet me?"
Come to the office and then
we can go anywhere we like"
Aunt Mary, bless her heart,
said she would be glad to have
little time alone--''to get myself
together and settle myself down
to my own way OF living once
MORE"
Maggie has become a fine maid
so | did not have to worry over
leaving Aunt Mary on that score.
Come in and see Mr.. Hatton,"
said Mollie.
do you think should do so?"
why not? He told me he
wanted to see you again and try
and persuade you to write those
children's stories"
"Mollie, can. write chill
dren's stories. never wrote
child's story In my life and I
think II takes a mother to write
of children"
MIR. Hatton says; The great
est stories are not OF life as II
is, but as II might be-
"Mr. Hatton, my dear Mollie,
is only quoting Aristotle who
said: IT is not the function Of the
poet to relate what has happened,
but what may happen.
Mollie locked up at me rather
OBVIOUSLY. IL wish l knew as
much as you, Margie. You and
Mr.. Hatton are so alike I'm attain
ments. | never could understand
why you fell in love with Dick
who probably would think Aris-
totle a kind of cheese and who
would declare that he liked
eGorgie Cohan better than
Shakespeare.
II guess Dick and | are in the
same boat"
What do you mean by that,
Mollie?" l asked In a whisper.
We were sitting in the reception
room outside Mr.. Hatton's office.
/ well, | may as well tell you,
Il
best of any man ! have ever met
and | always feel like a little
numbskull In his company. He
is always referring to those old
Greek or Roman fellows and l
am wondering II they are phil
osophers or kind of ancient
wine.
i 81 told him this once and you
ought to have heard him laugh.
You know he seldom smiles, but
this time he threw back his head
and laughed long and loud. My
child, you certainly are as re-
lfreshing as clear mountain
spring that one comes upon after
a long hard climb on sunny
sterile upward path
Wasn't that grand?"
very pretty, my dear. but I
advise you not to get interested
in man of that kind-you
would have a terrible time living
up to the tastes and ideals of
man like that"
mo, wouldn't she an
swered eagerly. II have never
been a bit different when / am
with him than | am every day
he likes me that way"
Then he lovely girlish face
clouded little. Honestly, Mar
gle, | can't tell whether he likes
me or not.
II never have known a man
who was as considerable of me as
Mr.. Hatton is, when l am with
him. Yet, Margie, he has never
asked to CAL Even when dear
Dad died he only left his card
and flowers. Perhaps this may
be on account of what Dick said
that time Mr.. Hatton brought me
home in his car. U wish Dick
would Just mind his own bust
ness. / bet IL even you told all
you knew | would find that Mas
ter Dick was no SAINT
"Someway Mr.. Hatton gives
me the impression that he is very
much interested in me. A differ
ent kind of look comes over his
face when he speaks to me than
at any other time. Won't you
invite him over to your house,
Margie, and let me happen in?"I
| laughed-all my relatives and
friends must think / am prime
minister to Dan Cupid, for here
was Mollie trying to get me to
smooth out things for her with
the man she was interested in
and just a little while before Bill
Tenney asked me to arrange SO
that he could meet his divorced
wife at my house-"quite cas-
lually."
1 First, my dear Mollie," said,
TT am going to know Mr.. Hatton
better before interest myself in
bringing you and him together
and you may be sure IL he does
admire you as. much as you seem
to think he will find a way to
tell you so.
/ by the way, who was that
man who brought you home in
the Hatton car the other night?"
4 CONTINUED Tomorrow