The Topeka state journal., 1919-11-20
Eueinitg Story
Apples Were Ripe.
BY DOROTHY DOUGLAS.

BY DOROTHY DOUGLAS.
Evelyn roamed aimlessly, but with
exceeding enjoyment, thru the lovely
Long Island road. She hoped her des-
tination would be the Nassau station
land thence by train back to. the city,
but Evelynss country jaunts did not al
ways lead her in the direction she fam
cied she was going.
On this particular golden after
noon in late September she was any
where but near the Nassau station.
Evelyn was not, howeveEc aware of
/ this fact nor of anything save the ex-
treme freshness, of the air and the Joy
of being away from the small office on
Broadway, where she read numerous
stories by authors and authors in the
making. Each Saturday, as it rolled
along in the summer time. found her
far from Broadway and sometimes
too far in the heart of the country
for her own safety On more than
one occasion she had been forced by
! the shades of night to beg a nights
lodging in the nearest farmhouse.
Evelyn always reserved the time
between Saturday afternoon and
Monday morning for herself. During
the week she was, as an editor, at
the beck and cali of any one who
CHANGED into the office, and so every
weekend she gave to her own COM
pany and took her tramps alone. 1t
was thus that she managed to slip into
her office chair Monday mornings with
a clear vision and eyes unWea ried and
cheeks fresh with the color of new
life. M +
You great big beautiful sum-" she
whimsically remarked to the crimson
ball that, was slowly climbing down
behind the trees you Sc, to have
just dashed across the sky today, and
yet L suppose you have really taken
your leisure Evelyn heaved a sigh,
for this was Sunday evening and the
next morning would have to see her
at her desk heaped high with manu-
scripts.
She was swinging past an orchard
in which the apples were red and ripe
and casting their fruity fragrance into
her hungry senses. Evelyn couldn't
remember ever having wanted any
thing in the way of foodaso much as
she wanted some of those rosy apples.
|. Desire harneSsed to physical ability
tempted her to leap over the fence
and pilfer her choice from the orchard
just as any small, hungry boy would
do, but conscience bade her proceed
farther and perhaps secure her apples
honestly from a farm hand
Evelyn was rewarded for her hon
orable intentions by seeing a sign a
bit farther on which stated that APP
Piles were for sale- and she pranced
joyfully thru a dilapidated pathway
overhung with grape vines to a shock
ingly unkempt but curiously. charming
cottage.
She knocked in vain on the paint
less door and finally with an unIady-
like vehemenee. However, there was
apples only increased with the diff
Guilty of procuring some.
Discouraged, she started away, but
as she passed the odorous orchard she
decided TO help herself and leave pay
ment for what she took
She selected six beauties pondered
a moment as to their selling price and
took a 50-cent piece from her purse,
rummaged among notes, powder puffs
and numerous feminine appurtenanca as
until she discovered an errant hand
lerchief. Into this she put her money.
and with a short bit of string secured
it to the branch of an apple tree
one that would catch the eye of the
farmer when he should return to his
ramshackle cottage.
Munching contentedly at an apple,
FTvo'va continued her way along the
"7d, and in the course of time arrived
$, TX in the city and at her small
apartment, the rent of which had bee n
raised to a shocking height my the
day b fore.
1t was during the month of Novem
ber- Evelyn remembered well the day
THAT she received d splendid story
from one of the newer writers.
He may have been struggling for
years and years" thought Evelyn,
'tbut his name is only creeping about
MA gazine circles now"
She had not forgotten the incident
OF the apples, because her brain sell
dom erased any of her wonderful
etchings of country rambles. They
were all very precious to her and this
story coming from the pen of a vivid
writer gave Evelyn a fierce hunger for
the days of summer past
Ir,, AI-1f ~
of the story was just one of the dainty
accessories to a good story-that find
ing of fifty cents in a handkerchief
tied to the branch of a tree. 1t had
been brought into the story as one of
the quaint experiences of one who
dwelt on the broad country road.
So unusual was the coincidence of
that idle moment of her own having
drifted into this strangers story and
that very story having come into her
own editorial hands that Evelyn was
tempted to carry on the other side of
the tale. She wanted to dash into
taxi, take a train for Glen Cove and
the ramshaekle cottage. find the young
author seated before 2 fire with his
pipe in his mouth dreaming of more
stories. fall madIy in love with him and
live happy ever after.
Instead of that Evelyn dictated
most editorial letter to John Cutstone
telling him that his story was charm
Ing ana OIlef1nS MIN 0u Tor II. she
added also that she would be inter
ested in meeting him should he be in
town in the near future.
So John Cutstone was in town in the
near future. In fact. he took the first
train out of Glen Cove after he had
motored down to the village postoffice
and got his letter from Evelyn Mon
roe, editor of the Boast
1t was. as always happens in the best
of fiction, a case of almost instantane-
ous love-at least, the instant Eve
lyn found her hand in that of John
Cutstone she had a wonderful feeling
OF contentment. John knew that with
Evelyns eyes looking into his he had
found something he thought only
existed in romantic fiction.
Your cottage is painfully in need
of paint" was the editors stupid re-
mark