Ottumwa semi-weekly courier. [volume] (Ottumwa, Iowa) 1916-1918, 1917-11-23
The Missing Ethel

4
my aunt informed me that she was to
having very extensive wardrobe.
handsome. She had waxen face. q
bit soiled, and yellowed from age, and
her hair was done in the old-fashioned
way-in net, with huge thick braid
pinned at the back Of her head, under
the net. Ethel was very odd, indeed;
| for instead Of having feet, like nor
j NAL, up-to-date doll, she had boots
and stockings painted right on the
| plaster Of paris that her legs were
made of. This had one disadvantage:
they were disposed to crumble.
| All this is neither here NOT there;
! what started to tell you about is how
| Ethel disappeared. You would nat.
urally think that doll of Ethel's size
would be easy to keep in sight,, and
that is why we were so puzzled when
she could not be found. She could
! not run away: she had no enemies
who would desire to kidnap her for
ransom; she could not hide about
the house without being detected:
and it would be difficult for anyone
to carry her OF away from the prem
ises without being seen. The mys-
terry was very deep. Everybody bf-
fered suggestions. but no one seemed
to hit the right thing, and Ethel could
not be found.
OF course was nearly heartbroken.
/ had other do1ls-Rosie, with the
brown curls and red cheeks; old rag
Fanny, that my grandmother made all
by hand Edna May manned for the
actress-dear knows WHY, with the
purple silk frock trimmed with black
lace; and three or four little dolls
that dressed myself. But Ethel was
my queen-the largest and Oldest
doll; nothing could take her place.
All my friends liked Ethel they
were awed by her grandeur-and
there was great CONSERVATION among
the young people when the news
spread that she was missing. One of
my playmates even advised advertis-
ing in the paper for her!
I said everyone liked Ethel, but that
is wrong. There were two who did
not like her-Martha, the cook, who
said she was always getting into the
kitchen (you would have thought she
walked there all by herself), and
Romper, our collie dog Romper had
a reason, too, for his aversion. He
was very fond of me, and rather re-
sented my attachment to all the dolls,
and to Ethel in particular. Then, too,
he had always seemed to look upon
her as a person (probably because
she was SO large), and had'approached
her innumerable times, as though to
make friends. When Ethel did not
roon4nH In <hA vpoH 4, ha no
thought, suppose, that she did not
like him, and Romper1 was mot used !
to being disliked. But what could
Romper do with Ethel? Remember.
ing the Sweet Little Doll" poem. L
searched the back and front yards
that was easy, but Ethel was not
there.
1t must have been three weeks la.
ter that my uncle made trip to the
small, narrow chimney closet. where
he kept certain yellow documents
that seemed useless to everyone ex-
cept himself. The closet was little
used, because It was on the floor.
near the fireplace-so near. in fact.
that it was almost hot. Uncle did not
mind. He said, People will not 60
there and disturb my documents'-
and they did not.
On this day uncle went to the clos
ct and couple, of minutes later we
heard smothered exclamation.
What is all this pudding in here?"
he roafed. Pudding. all over my pa
pcrs!" The closet was rather dark,
so that you had to get used to the
light before you could see much.
1T cannot be pudding, Frank my
mother answered, as we all rushed to
the spot.
When we brought light. what do
you suppose we saw? A familiar
form the figure of the long-lost
Ethel, and her poor waxen face and
neck were quite melted-puddingly,
in fact, as uncle had stated.
We never proved how it all hap
pened but, of course, we made our
own explanations of the mystery. We
decided that Romper, in At a
jealousy, and seeing the little door
open, had taken up poor Ethel by the
skirt and carried her to this place.
where, he probably reasoned, she T
would be out of the way for q time:
but. although l questioned him about
this. he never would answer.
Now comes the really funny part Of
my story. Poor Ethel's waxen face
was quite disfgured, and l used to
feel like crying every time / saw her.
Il was almost as bad as not finding
her at all. But one day, as I was ex-
her closely, saw bit Of
crack in the wax over, her eye, and
thinking that she could not possibly
ook worse, pried the wax still more
with my fngernail What was my
surprise to behold a clean, brown,
painted eyebrow on the material un-
the wax.s Hastily l removed
more wax until had her face clean.
Her features were the same beneath
III painted nicely-and to my Joy
saw that had brand-new Ethel
lew enough, at any rate. even IL her
cheeks were not quite 50 pink Is for
neY1y!