The Spectator., 1915-02-23
ABOUT WIDOW DOW
By CHARGE GAINES.

little cottages had been an addition to his income. Of course, the prop erty was sadly out of repair and a great deal of money had been spent upon it, still the agent had made many complaints about dissatisfied tenants.
 Jay reread the letter.
 About this Widow Dow said the agent, "she lives in the last cottage at the very edge of the woods, and she says that some of the trees should be cut down because the shade makes her place damp. l tell you she ought not to make complaints when she is behind with her rent"
 "Pshaw!" muttered Jay, thrusting the letter into his pocket. "Tll run down there myself and have it out with Mrs Dow"
 The next day, quite unknown to Agent Green, Jay Dickson alighted from the train at the Dorilton sta- tion and took a short cut through the woods to reach his property
 He was not prepared for the huge black woman who waddled across the garden with heavy foot. Her woolly hair was tied up in a snowy turban and her white gown was immaculate.
 Are you Mrs. Dow?" asked Jay.
 The woman looked at him shrewdly. "I am Armada Dow she admitted.
 MT. Green wrote to me about you, Mrs. Dow; he said you wanted some trees cut down. I will see him about the matter"
 Jay, puzzled at finding his agent had rented one of the cottages to other than white people, pursued his way through the street toward the agents office. Near his destination he was just in time to snatch young woman from under the wheels of a. racing automobile.
 AS it was, they were both flung against the curbstone. and the young woman lay pale and white against. Jays arm.
 I'll show you," volunteered a woman, and she led the way toward Jays row of cottages.
 She passed them all until she came to the last one, the abode of the Widow Dow.
 T will go inside with you. The doctor is on his way now" she said, as she opened the gate.
 Armada Dow met them in the porch, and she took the slender, unconscious form in her arms and bore her up- stairs, where the village doctor ar- rived in few moments.
 Jay Dickson, wandering restlessly in the little garden, could not rid his mind of that lovely face which had lain against his shoulder It was a. red hair that grew low on her fore head. The lashes that lay on her creamy cheek were thick and dark and curling. What color were her eyes?
 What ailed him, anyway? he asked himself fiercely. Never before had he cared about the color of womens eyes!
 The doctor came down and spoke to him.
 Her arm is broken" he said.
 Its her working arm," sniffed Armada, as she went out
 Mrs Dow is an artist" explained the doctor in a low tone. She's been having hard sledding, I understand. and I guess losing the use of her right hand for many weeks won't help any"
 q am Jay Dickson, the owner Of these cottages. l came down to see Mrs. Dow" explained Jay, feeling un- reasonably elated because his divinity was the Widow Dow-and free!
 Strangely contented at the outcome of affairs, this most impractical of landlords proceeded to visit his other tenants in the row, and with them planned to make such improvements In the cottages and grounds as would justify change in the name of the place.
 In the course of time it was trans formed into Rose Terrace, and it was due to the good taste of the Widow Dow, who acted as Jays adviser in the matter of improvements. During her convalescence the Widow Dow went to drive in Jays big automobile, while Armada sat, mountain of swelling pride, in the tonneau
 Green, the agent, was pleasantly shocked to receive generous check when his employer was married. He never really knew what it was for, but Jay explained to his lovely bride:
 If it hadn't been for Greens com blaming letter I'd never have gone down to see the Widow Dow-and some other chap might have won her first"
 But the widow only laughed in her delightful way.
 There couldn't possibly have been any other chap" she said, flor there Is only one you. you know"
 And Jay Dickson was supremely