The Winslow mail., 1917-06-08
KILLING The LOVE STUFF:
BY OLIVE ROBERTS BARTON.
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week she had read and sorted and
blue-penciled and dictated amidst the
roaring of so typewriters and the
editor under such circumstances is
likely to get stalled on romance
Love, love, love, it's always love-"
she declared with disgust. Il get so
sick of this everlasting stuff! 1 think
I'll scream if someone isn't murdered
soon or the hero doesn't die before his
time. But have to throw them out if
they're not dripping with love for
that's what the public demands.
No one heard these sentiments for
the roaring and shriIling went on I'M
ceasingly, drowning almost every other
sound. Even Brilles, the hard-hearted
managing editor on the other side of
the big room was adding to the pande-
monium by forcibly calling down a cub
for missing big thing he was sent to
cover the night before.
'I Think" she mused, as she put on
her bat and jacket and hooked up her
furs, that l can't accept any more
stories from Treador Vane. The slush
is getting so thick 1 can't wade
through. Sometime I'll put it up to
Brilles. He's about as romantic and
unbendable as a plate-glass window,
but not" she glanced over at him quiz
zically, $50 transparent. A regular
sphinx, should say"
Shn H0oaha6 hn esf1
canyon between the high cliffs of build
ings. She was greatly surprised
that the cold, drizzing rain that was
falling at noon had stopped and that
the thermometer had not only fallen
25 degrees, but that wind biting and
strong, was tearing down the street
and freezing everything as it went.
Pedestrians were cropping their way
along, keeping close to the wall for
safety, but it was hazardous business.
Sylvia watched a moment from the
haven of the vestibule. She had three
squares to go for her car. Then she
had happy thought. Up in the locker
room she had q pair of skates.
When she went through the big
room Brilles was still at his desk
Brilles, the f1intlike, the heartless, the
much-to-be-feared.
Sylvia stopped beside him. He
turned in his swivel chair and regard
ed her silently, running his eyes over
her slim, girlish figure in it's brown
jersey suit, soft furs and little hat
under which her face glowed like a
rose.
"What is itW he asked quite gently
81 want to ask you if you don't think
we're running too much sentiment in
the story column. I've been keeping
everything with love in it, and return
ing hundreds of ripping good stories
just because the hero forgot to kiss his
girl or the parson refused to marry the
old maid. 1 thought I'd ask your opin-
ion. How would it do to run in an
occasional good one on another theme!
All this love stuff is just a dream"
"Is it?"
"Yes-you know it as we'll as l do
But the public is queer. They're
crazy about one Treador Vane. per-
sonally wouldn't give his truck room
in the ash barrel"
Brilles tapped his desk minute
thoughtfully. Look here, Miss Hun
ter, you're here to run that column,
so do as you please about it. I've read
that Vane stuff myself and I'm sure !
agree with you. You're right about
the love business, too. Even the girls
nowadays don't know what it means
Business or something has taken all
the romance out of them. You're a
good example yourself"
Sylvia started and remembered her
own summing up of the managing edi
tor. Certainly the verdict was mutual.
"It's a bad night and I'm getting my
skates,' she said as she left. 'Tm GO
ment."
But as she glided over the slippery
street she decided not to take the car
Crossing a street, Sylvia cOllided
with a man. They went down togeth.
er in heap.
MISS hunter. Crleu ne SpIlng1nE
up.
''Mr. Brilles," exclaimed Sylvia.
care you hurt?"
"Not a bit"
But when Sylvia got to her feet
with his help she turned pale. 81 be
lieve I've twisted my foot" she said
'Oh, that's too bad! Can you bear
your weight on it at all?"
eyes, if 1 don't move it."
"Then I'll tow you home. How far
is it?"
"About four squares"
When they reached her door she in,
sisted that he come in. "You haven't
had dinner, have you?" she asked.
NO." he admitted.
"Then you must share ours" she In
sisted.
So BrilleS, the flinted-hearted
stayed and spent the evening, The
noyt mOrniOo tho prottv aditor laid q