Warren sheaf., 1917-12-26

4 l5lI|l I'm
She sulked 0rouchlly in the Dining
Room.
grouchily in the dining room, and when
Lark, radiant, star-eyed, danced into
the room for the family's approval, she
almost gloWered upon her.
Am I all right? Do I look literary1
oh, OH" gurgled Lark, with music In
her voice.
Carol shifted.
oh, isn't it a glorious morning7'
sang Lark again. isn't everything
wonderful, father?'
"Lark Starr" cried Carol passionate
", II should think you'd be ashamed Of
yourself. It's bad enough to turn your
back on your-yonr lifelong twin, and
raise barriers between us, but for you
to be so wildly happy about 1t is per
fectly wicked
Lark wheeled about abruptly and
stared at her sister, the fire slowly
dying out Of her eyes.
why, Carol" she began slowly, in
Z low voice, without music.
"Oh, that's all right. You needn't
try to talk me over. A body'd think
there was nothing in the world but
ugly old newspapers. / don't like 'em,
anyhow. I think they're downright
nosey! And we'll never be the same
any more, Larkie, and you're the only
twin I've got, and -
Carols defiance ended in poorly
suppressed sob and rush Of tears.
Lark threw her gloves on the table.
Il won't go at all" she said. II
won't 60 a step. II If you think for
q minute, Carol, that any silly old
career is going. to be any dearer to me
than you are, and IL we aren't going to
be just as we've always been, I won't
go STEP"
Carol wiped her eyes. .Well," she
said very affectionately, ''if you feel
like that, It's all right. I just wanted
you to say you liked me better than
anything else. OF course you must 60,
Lark. really take all the credit for
you and your talent to myself, and It's
as much an honor for me as 1t is for
You, and I want you to 90. But don't
You ever 60 to liking the crazy old
stories any better than you do me- y
Then she picked up Lark's gloves,
and the two went out with an arm
around each Others waist.
It was a dreary morning for Carol,
but none Of her sisters knew that most
Of Il was spent In the closet Of her.
room, sobbing bitterly. IT'S Just the
way Of the world" she mourned, In the
tone Of one who has lived many years.
and suffered untold anguish, 1--WE spend
our lives bringing them up, and loving
them, and finding all our joy and hap
piness In them, and then they 60, and
we are left alone t5s5
Lark's morning at the Office was
quiet, but none the less thrilling on
that account. Mr.. Raider received her
cordially, and with a great deal of
unctuous fatherly advice. He took her
into his office, which was one corner Of
the press room glassed in by itself, and
talked over her duties, which, as far as
Lark could gather from his DISCOURSE
appeared to consist In doing as she
was told.
Now, remember" he said, in part,
"that running newspaper is busi-
ness. Pure business. We've got to
give folks what they want to hear, and.
they want to hear every thing that hap
pens. Folks want to hear about the
private affairs Of other folks. They
pay us to find out, and tell them, and
It's our duty to do 1t. So don't ever be
squeamish about coming right out
blunt with the plain facts; that's what
we are paid FOR. .
This did not seriously impress Lark.
theoretically, she realized that he was
right. And he talked 50 impressively
of the press, and its mission In the
world, and It's rights and its pride and
its power, that Lark, looking away
with hope-fllled eyes, saw q high and
mighty figure. immense. all-powerful,
standing free, ma jestic, beckoning her
90 come. Il was her flrst view OF the
worlds press
But on the fourth morning, when she
| entered tho once, Mr. Raider met her
witch more exeitemsnt III his manner
than she had svsss seen before 49,
lfule, excitement does MOI, 1it well lson