The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1917-10-12
THE DAILY
SHORT STORY
Gregory Fuller, Model.
RY OSBORNE JoNEs.

copyright, 1917, by the Mcclure
Newspaper SyndicateJ
THERE were twelve high.backed
rocking chairs on the boarding
house yeranda, and in each of
those chairs sat a woman, varying in
age and figure all the way from the
6-year lassie, who sat bolt upright,
with her chubby bare legs crossed
crossed tailor fashion under her, as
she laboriously piled the stitches OF
wash cloth with her rosy fingers
down, or rather up, to Mrs. Van der
Hayden, who looked as we who have
never seen a duchess at close range
imagine duchesses OF three-score and
more all to look-portly and haugh.
ty and serene. She was knitting an
aviator's helmet All in all, there
we're twenty-four needles clicking,
and, save when some one stopped TO
count stitches. there were half as
many tongues gently wagging.
NO wonder, then, that the two un.
attached males whom unkind fate
had condemned to abide In the one
boarding house in town preferred to
smoke their pipes and read their pa
pers on the wooden settle down by
the gate OF the old house. Except
for the fact that they were doomed
to share the same bench in this Os.
tracism, there was little in common
between Gregory Fuller and the 9th
er young man. who sought to enter
tain and Impress Gregory with his so.
cial conquests in his home town,
Stlll, when the young man went for
weekend to that home town, pre-
sumably to score a few more tr-
umphs, Gregory felt doubly oppressed
In his ostracism; and without know.
ing Just how things stood between
Gregory and Ma-gery Drake-the lit
tie 20-year.old school teacher that sat
up there in this third chair from
Mrs. Van der Hayden and knitted
sleeveless sweaters-you might have
wondered why he did not seek some
other place to spend his Saturday af.
ternoon than down there on the hard
wooden beach by the fence, with only
magazine and pipe to console him.
Down there at least he was unob.
served, or thought he was, and he
could be sure that Margery was safe.
He had little reason to feel jealousy,
for, except for his erstwhile compan.
ion who had gone home for the week
end, Gregory was about the only ell.
1gible male in the community.
DO you know, | think there must
be something wrong with these d.
rections." 1t was the shrill treble of
Mrs. Jones-the angular blond lady
with the bediamonded fingers who
sat next to Margery. Il have follow.
ed them faithfully-bound off thirty
two stitches for the head, knitted five
ribs, and then set on thirty.two stitch.
es again, and will you look at the
Size of the neck?
Margery beside her compared her
own nearly completed sweater with
her neighS0rs. Mine is just the
same size. | took it for granted that
the rules were right"
But can't get 1t over my head at
ALL" exclaimed Mrs. Smith as she
seized Margery's sweater and tried
to pull it over her blond pompadour.
OF course you can't" reproved the
duchess, pausing as she counted
Observation-Disclosures, twenty.four,
twenty-five, with your hair done over
rat OF course your head is larger
than a mans"
You don't suppose | do such
thing" grasped Mrs. Smith. Though
| will admit that my hair is very
thick and that may take up more
room. But even it my hair is full,