Wausau pilot. [volume] (Wausau, Wis.) 1896-1940, 1918-06-04
DOLLIE'S CAREER
BY MILDRED WHITE.
Copyright 1918. Western Newspaper Union.

Jack" said Dollie suddenly, 'has 1t
ever occurred to you that l ought
to give serious thought to preparing
for my future"
"Dollie," | answered reproachfully,
now many times have | tried to per-
suade you to let me care for your fu-
ture?"
But | don't want to marry and set
tie down, like everyone else" Dollie
answered impatiently. 81 intend to be
famed-to have a career. Besides"
she added-"suppose we did marry
you might die any day, and what would
become of me?"
There was no gainsaying this cheer
full possibility. NO." she continued
firmly, II must learn to provide for
myself, and strictly in confidence,
Jack, do not mind saying that have
decided upon literature as profess
sion."
write novels?" / questioned.
write stories,", said .Dollie. "Now,
I happen to need a new frock, but un-
fortunately daddy does not think so.
If should write a story say today"
Dollie wrinkled her brows-"the ed
itor would get 1t tomorrow, Tuesday,
then If he sent my check Wednesday,
part of the week, don't you think so?'
"If he sends the check Wednesday,"
I agreed.
"Well," said Dollie, jumping up and
running over to her desk, keep very
quiet like dear, and will write the
story now, then you may have the priv
ilege of reading 1t before you go, and
may also drop 1t into the mail box
upon your way home"
There was silence for few mo-
ments. pretended to read while Dol
lie scrubbed furiously. Presently she
raised a flushed and troubled face !:
"Such a horrid, difficult character"
Dollie exclaimed petulantly. EVERY
thing she says looks queer on paper,
you see, Martha-that is her name
is supposed to be little country girl
living in some far-away, desolate
place."
"Under those circumstances, sug-
gested. perhaps she doesn't know
any better"
"Why, that is So" said Dollle, en-
couraged, and the pencil flew again.
eff" a small voice remarked a few
minutes later-"if one knew positive
ly just how the people talk in that
part Of the country, one might call
their language-dialect."
"Call it any old thing you like" I
comforted, "and If the author doesn't
know, no one else will"
Dollie looked at me a bit suspi-
ciously, but was soon absorbed In her
story. what is the matter now"
asked, as a deep frown appeared be-
tween her beautiful eyes.
'It is the lady," Dolly complained,
"the refined, cultured lady from the
| city, she Is just as impossible as the
other one and-I can't make her talk
dialect, can II"
"Dollie," began soothingly, but was
| quickly interrupted:
"Jack," she burst out, 81 wish you
would cease calling me by that ridi.
culous name, 1t is very unsuitable"
Unsuitable !" l cried, and drawing
nearer, dared to speak In a manner
which is usually silenced by Dollie.
| compared her to ali the radiant, beau
| tiful things Of earth-her eyes were
| twin violets stepped In dew 'hel
| cheeks had stolen their soft pink from
the rose petals Dollie was evident
ly carried away by my eloquence, fol
she regarded me long and attentively
with a sweet, dreamy expression thai
was most encouraging.
Jack she asked, as / finally
! paused for breath, 81 have been try
ing to think, how do you spell apollo
getically?''
GOOD heavens !" I exclaimed. and
collapsed In my chair. Dollie's eye
twinkled.
81 forget whether it has one or tive
l's," she said.
But / sulked on In injured silence
the sound of tearing paper caused M
to look up. Dollie was furiously con
signing her first literary effort to thu
flames.
81 am not going to write stories fol
a living" she announced, sit spoili
ones temper"
i "But the check for your new
dress" reminded.
"Oh, well. there are other things,
Dollie answered serenely. II nigh
teach music, for instance"
| Immediately shs- vas NJ. the njaD'