Omaha daily bee., 1918-09-01

right along now. She's goin' where she
wants to go and do what she wants to
do and she's goin' to have all the fan
cy fumadiddles to wear she wants"
Good! I'm glad to hear that, too.
laughed Mr.. Smith.
We'll, she is. This savin' an savin'
is all very we'll, of course, when you
have to. But I've saved all my life an
by jingo, I'm goin' to spend now!
You see if | don't"
II hope you WILL"
Thank you. I'm glad to have one
on my side, anyhow. wish You
couldn't talk my wife round to your
way of thinkin', could your" he
shrugged with whimsical smile. my
wife's eaten sour cream to save the
sweet all her life an she hain't learned
yet that if she'd eat the sweet to begin
with she wouldn't have no sour cream
IT wouldn't have time to get sour.
An there's apples, too. She eats the
specked ones always; so she don't
never eat anything but the worst there
is. An she says they're the meanest
apples she ever saw. Now | tell her
if she'll only pick out the best there
is every time, as do, she'll not only
enjoy every apple she eats but she'll
think they're the incest apples that
ever grew. Funny, isn't it? Here am
havin' to urge my wife to spend mon
ey, while my sister-in-law here
Talk about ducks takin' to the water!
That amt no name for the way she
sails into Jim's little pile"
Mr.. Smith laughed.
"By the way. where is Mr.. Jim?" he
asked.
The other shook his head.
"Hain't seen him-but l can guess
where he is. pretty well. You go down
that hall and turn to your left. In
little room at the end you'll find him.
That's his den. He told Hattie it was
the only room in the house he'd ask
for, but he wanted to fix it up for HIM
self. Hattie. she wanted to buy all
sorts of truck and fix it up with cush-
ions and curtains and Japanese gim-
cracks like she saw in den in book,
and make show place of it. But Jim
held out and had his way. There amt
nothin' in it but books and chairs and
couch and a big table; and they're all
old-except the books-so Hattie
don't show it much, when she's show
in off the house. You'll find him there
all right. You see if you don't. Jim
always would rather read than eat,
and he hates shindigs of this sort a
little worse n | do"
"All right I'll look him up" nod
| ded Mr.. Smith. as he turned away.
Deliberately, but with apparent care
lessness, strolled Mr.. Smith through
the big drawing rooms. and down the
hall. Then to the 1eft-the directions
were not hard to follow, and the door
of the room at the end was halfway
open, giving glimpse of James Blais-
dell and Benny before the big fire
| place.
/ With a gentle tap and cheerful
DO you allow intruders?" Mr.. Smith
pushed open the door.
James Blaisdell sprang to his feet.
"Er-I-oh, Mr.. Smith, come in,
come right in!" The frown on his
! face gave way to a smile Il thought
- Well, never mind what thought
Sit down, won't you"
Thank you, if you don't mind"
Mr.. Smith dropped into chair and
looked about him.
"Ain't it great?" beamed Benny.
"It's most as nice as Aunt Maggie's.
amt it? And can eat all the cookies
here | want to, and come in even it
my shoes are muddy, and bring the
boys in, too
at certainly is-great," agreed Mr..
Smith, his admiring eyes sweeping the
room again.
To Mr.. Smith it was like coming
into another world. The deep, COM
Portable chairs, the shaded lights, the
leaping fire in the hearth, the book
lined walls-even the rhythmic voices
i, of the distant violins seemed to sing
OF peace and quietness and rest.
Dads been showin' me the books
he used ter like when he was little
boy like me-" announced Benny.
"Hain't he got lot of 'em?-books.
mean"
He certainly has"
Mr.. James Blaisdell stirred little
in his chair.
Il suppose I have-crowded them
little" he admitted. But. you see,
there were so many I'd always
wanted, and when the chance came
we'll, l just bought them; that's all"
And you have the time now to
read them.'
~ have, thank Well, I suppose
I should say, thanks to Mr. Stanley
G. Fulton" he laughed, with some
embarrassment u wish Mr.. Fulton
could know-how much | do thank
him." he finished soberly, his eyes
caressing the rows of volumes on the
shelves. "You see, when you've want
ed something all your life" He
stopped with an expressive gesture.
You don't care much for-that,
then, | take it" inferred Mr.. Smith.
with wave of his hand toward the
distant violins.
Dad says there's only one thing
worse than a party. and that's two
parties" piped UP Benny from his
seat on the rug.
Mr.. Smith laughed heartily, but the
other looked still more discounted.
"I'm afraid Benny isis telling tales
out of school," he murmured.
well, t is out of school, amt it,"
maintained Benny. Say, Mr.. Smith,
did yer have ter go ter private
school when you we're a little boy?
Ma says everybody does who is any
body. But if it's Cousin Stanley's
money that's made US somebody,
wished he'd kept it at home-'fore |
had ter go ter that old school"
"Oh. come. come, my boy" remon-
strated the father, drawing his son
into the circle of HE arm "That's |