The West Virginian. [volume] (Fairmont, W. Va.) 1914-1974, 1919-11-18
THE DAILY
SHORT STORY
Apples Were Ripe.
By DOROTHY DOUGLAS.
Copyright, 1919, by tho Mcclure
NEWSPAPER SYndicateD

with exceeding enjoyment,
II through the lovely Long Island
road. She hoped her destination
would be the Nassau station and
thence by train back to the city, but
Eyelyn's country iaunts did not al
ways lead her in the direction she
Eancied she was going.
On this particular Saturday after
noon in late September she was any
where but near the Nassau station.
Evelyn was not, however, aware OF
This fact nor Of anything save the ex-
IRENE freshness of the air and the
10y OF being away from the small Of
flee on Broadway, where she read nu-
merous stories by authors and authors
in the making. Each Saturday, as 1t
rolled along in the summertime, 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 nights lodg-
Ing in the nearest farmhouse
Evelyn always reserved the time be-
tween Saturday afternoon and Mon
day morning for herself During the
week she was, as an editor, at the
beck and call of any one who CHANGED
INTO the office, and so every weekend
she gave to her own company and took
her tramps alone. 1t was thus that
she managed to slip into her office
chair Monday mornings with clear
vision and eyes unwearied and cheeks
fresh with the color of new life.
You great big beautiful sun" she
whimsically remarked to the crimson
ball that was slowly climbing down
behind the trees; you seem to have
Just dashed across the sky today, and
yet | suppose you have really taken
your leisure Evelyn heaVed u 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 orchAId
in which the apples we're 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 food so much as
she wanted some of those rosy ap-
pies.
Desire harnessed to physical abil-
ity tempted her to leap over the fence
and pilfer her choice from the orch
ard just as any small, hungry boy
would do, but conscience babe her
proceed farther and perhaps secure
her apples honestly from farm hand
Evelyn was rewarded for her hon
Jrable intentions by seeing sign bit
farther on which stated that apples
were for sale, and she pranCed joy
'ully through a dilapidated pathway
overhung with grape vines 10 shock
tngly unkempt but curiously charming
cottage,
She knocked in vain on the painless
ioor and finally with an unladyltko
Iehemence. However, there was no
response, and Eyelyn's desire for APP
Dles only increased with the difficult
y 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
1 moment as to their selling price and
look a 5O-cent piece from her purse,
rummaged among notes, powder puffs
and numerous feminine appurtenances
until she discovered an Grant hand
kerchief Into this she put her money,
and with short bit of string secured
It to the branch of an apple tree-onc
that would catch the eye OF the farm !
err when he should return to his ram
shackle cottage.
Munching conteDtedly at an apple,
Evelyn continued her way along the
road, and in the course OF time arrived
back in the city and at her small apart
ment, the rent Of which had been
raised to a shocking height only the
day before.
1t was during the month Of Novem-
ber-ETelyn remembered well the day
that she received splendid story
from one Of the newer writers. i
"He may have been struggling for
years and years. thought Evelyn, but
his name is only creeping about maya
zine circles now"
She had not forgotten the incident
II the apples, because her brain sell
ION erased any of her wonderful
.tchings of country rambles. They
we're all very precious to her and this
story coming from the pen Of vivid
RffIer gave Evelyn fierce hunger
Sor the days of summer past.
She knew, of course, that the author
Of the story was Just one of the dainty
accessories to a good story-that find
ing Of fifty cents in handkerchief
lied to the branch of a tree. 1t had
been brought into the story as one of
The quaint experiences of one who
lwelt on the broad country road.
So unusual was tho coincidence OF
Mat idle moment of her own having
irifted 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
Me tale. She wanted to dash into
taxi, take a train for Glen Cove and
HE ramshackle cottage. find the young
author seated before a fire with his
pipe in his mouth dreaming Of more
stories, fall madly in love with him and
liSe happy ever after.
Instead Of that Evelyn dictated
most editorial letter to John Cutstone
telling him that his story was charm
lng and offering him $3.50 for it. She
added also that she would be interest,"