The Lamar register. [volume] (Lamar, Colo.) 1889-1952, 1915-10-27
DORRY'S IDEAL LOVER
BY SHIRLEY CARSON.

DO describe your ideal hero
Dorry," begged the girls. The on
YOU would welcome to the castle
your heart" added Eleanor sentiment
ally.
Derry crossed her slim ankles al
clasped her hands around her lnC,
Sitting there on the grass in her D.
tie white frock, she looked very gour
md very lovely. but Dorothy was pa
twenty.
Well she began. loking dream
lily into distance. he must b tai
six feet anyway, as much more lsI
would be in proportion to his per
fectly magnificent physique.
Mercy" breathed Susan "l.|
would cost a heap to feed such N
giant" Her eyes met those OF Peter
Ford and she was conscious Of al
panied look In his honest brown eye
Susan WINGED and was sorry that tho,
had urged Dorothy to express her
opinion concerning heroes Peter
Ford was so hopelessly In love with
her little sister-and he fell so far
short of the ideal man! Poor Peter
with his fine intellectual head and his
hopelessly blunt and commonplace fea
lures: his slight stature and his hon
est glance beneath thatCh e. straight
black hair Every careless word of
Dorothy's was turning the knife in.
Peters loyal. loving heart
So Susan fell very silent. while Dor
othy's voice trickled on a musical rip.
pie of words:
with curling, golden hair like
a Greek gods; eyes blue and mystic
as the sea; a straight nose: a firmly
modelled mouth and a dimpled chin
Oh. | don't care" pouted Dorothy. at
their laughter. Il do think a man
with a dimpled chin is too alluring!
My world" cried Jimmy Dean
shrilly.
Don't be silly, deari" whispered
Susan, warningly, but Dorothy only
shrugged a careless shoulder and with
a pink color flying in her cheeks went
on recklessly:
He must be musical-and an ath-
lete-and fond OF all outdoor sports.
He mustn't read anything except the
newspapers"
I'm afraid he'd be horrid bore.
remarked Susan dryly.
Peter Ford was walking away to-
ward the fish pond
The guests scattered to other amuse-
ments. and after while Dorothy was
left alone. The sun was sending
long. slanting shadows across the
turf thor yEaa
of roses from the garden beyond the
fish pond.
Lazily Dorothy tossed aside her book
and made her way slowly toward the
roso garden.
But the garden was already ten
anted.
Standing before a great bush Of
pink roses, his hands grasping the
thorny stems and crushing the masses
Of pink blooms against his cheeks. was
Peter Ford.
She went close up to him, and still
he did not turn TO greet her.
Timidly she touched his arm.
Peter" she whispered.
He turned haggard face and
lOOheu Gown IL utl rum buiH lnB
eyes.
"weI?" he demanded. almost
harshly.
Il suppose-you think I'm awfully
silly" she stammered; "a perfect
idiot"
You know never could think any
thing like that about you he said.
Il mean silly when talking about
castles and ideal lovers and every
thing. | was hopelessly silly, l know"
No. you are not that he said.
slowly, but you are young and beau
tiful, Dorothy, and who could blame |
you for desiring ! mate to match
your own loneliness? Not II"
1t couldn't make any difference to
you, anyway. Peter" half whispered |
Dorothy, turning her face away from
him. You wouldn't want to live in .
my castle"
Not with that paragon Of perfec-
ton you described"
II wouldn't eitherl" cried Doro-
thy. with astonishing inconsistency.