Audubon County journal. (Exira, Iowa) 1884-1993, 1918-03-21
HOW HE MET HER
BY J. H. LIE ROY.
Copyright, 1917, BY the Mcclure Newspa-
per Syndicate.)

IL Y
i per Syndicate.)
Joseph was very conscientious
young man. As a boy he had been
known at baseball to dispute the de-
cisiOn of an umpire in his favor. Even
the ordinary social lines We're repel-
| liant to him.
With such character there was only
one thing that the young man could
| ultimately become.
Shortly after he became reviewer
of fiction for the Sun it happened that
he met Florence. Florence was a jolly
Southern girl, and had at comparative
ly early age been left an orphan. 1t
| was shortly after Florence had become
a goyerness that she and Joseph met,
Her face was wholesome and practical
rather than beautiful. For some weeks
he never told her his love. Then one
afternoon he took her to hear an ora.
torio. 1t may have been the effect Of
the music or Of the tea ane toas. at the
Eastman cafe afterward, or of the long
ride to Baltimore over the Washington
pike.
The fact remains that when they
climbed into the touring car he called
her Miss Bordeaux, and when they
parted at the end Of the journey he
called her Florence. One night there
was an air Of mystery about her.
| Shortly" she said, "you will see me
in new light, Joseph"
Il would not have yon different"
said Joseph.
EAST side of Mount Vernon bridge,
about six tomorrow" said Florence.
right" said Joseph.
The next morning there was brought
to his room large parcel Of novels
from the Sun. He groaned, because
they meant work, and even the reading
| of novels is not pleasant if you are
/ paid for it.
| He tore his mind away from romance
in real life and settled down to ro-
nance as it is written, and the very
first volume that he picked up was en-
titled My Love of Bygone Days." by
Florence Bordeaux. This, then, was
the new light in which Florence was
to appear. She had written novel
and he was to review it.
1 He wondered if the editor of the Sun
would stand an entire column about
an unknown genius. Joseph almost
regretted that he had discovered three
unknown geniuses the week before; it
was likely to spoil the market.
He noticed the name of the publish
ers with regret. Florence would have
done better to have consulted him.
Then he read the book, and buried his
face in his hands, for that novel by
Florence Bordeaux was about the most
4 putrid thing in fiction that had polluted
4 his chambers for the last 1S months.
1t was wrong everywhere; it was
wrong all through There is no worse
thing on earth than bad historical
novel, and this was very bad his
torical novel.
Here, then, was conflict between love
and duty. Duty was scratched and
/ love walked in. BY the evening he had
written column hailing Florence Bor-
I deaux as the greatest genius that the
4 century had yet seen. But his heart
was broken. For once he had not been
conscientious. He could not live with
that stain upon his soul. So he de-
termined to meet Florence on Mount
Vernon bridge, take one long, last fare
: well, then send off the review and then
leave town and his growing reputation
as literary critic forever.
4 Florence was little late for her
appointment and looked very pleased
with herself.
SWELL" he said, 'why did you not
confide in me? Why did you not tell
me you had written book? Possibly
my practiced judgment might
What on earth are you talking
about? have not written any book.
shouldn't be so silly"
/ "Then some one else with your name
has"
Has she? What cheek" She still
laughed at Joseph somewhat inquir-,
ingly. He had an uneasy sense that
4 she was expecting linn to say some
lsthing and that he wasnot saying 1t.
4 "Well," he said, "what did you mean,
4 then, by saying you were going to APP
I, pear in new light?" 49,
! IF you happen to be blind" she
1 answered rather snapplshly, II can't
give you new eyesp
& Don't be cross, dear. Let's see-its
the same jacket you always wear, and
the same skirt
ooh, don't bother. I've got my hair
done differently, and I've got a new
hat. ! don't want to talk about it. If
you take no interest in my appearance
there's no more to be said"
The rest of his interview with Flor
ence was far more pleasant. But Jo-
seph's column review of the novel by
her namesake was reduced>to two lines
on the subject of literary rubbish.
And he was still conscientious.
Saponin, a Food AduIteration.
Ia Sc, u II.