The Republican. [volume] (Oakland, Md.) 1877-current, 1919-01-16
Plans for Peace
o<1
By JANE OSBORN

always fingered in the wicker chairs
of the sun parlor after breakfast, but
this morning there were more loiter-
ers than usual, and they were talking
in accents that showed keen interest.
( And that interest had been aroused by
headlines in the morning papers that
indicated that the end of the world
war, if not in sight, was at least some
thing that one dared dream about.
Il suppose Miss King will have to
come down on her board" a little
weazen-faced old lady, noted for her
miserliness, was saying.
swell, there's no use my saving any
more pits, suppose" sighed another;
and third. cat least, they won't have
any excuse for sweetening the cram
berry sauce with molasses. / didn't
! like to object before. 1t didn't seem
/ loyal, but now l certainly"
Doris May, who had fingered on her
way to her volunteer work at Red
Cross, but who nevertheless was turn
! ing her time to account with sock
knitting had at this point emitted a
little stified scream that cut short the
/ last remark and focused the eyes of
/ the lingerers on her.
/ Doris, twenty-four, and sweet of
face and the youngest member by far
/ of the King establishment, blushed
| with embarrassment She had not
expected to attract attention and she
/ did not really want to explain.
81 was just thinking" she explained,
however at suddenly occurred to me
/ that when the war was over there
would be no more socks to knit and no
more canteens TO work for nor con-
servation kitchens to help with nor
I liberty bread to bake-and, well, was
beginning to feel sorry and that made
me scream, 1 guess. 1t seemed so
wicked to have anything but the hap
piest feelings that it is all over 1
! truly shall miss the Knitting"
"Well, I am sure l shan't," snapped
one of the sour-visaged members of
the establishment who had, during the
course of the war, managed to knit
! two whole pairs of socks and a sweat
er. I'm quite exhausted l assure
! you, and nothing but winter in Flor
Ida will undo the damage all this knit
ting has done my nerves."
Anyway, you needn't stop knitting"
another one of the company was say
/ ing. Soldiers aren't the only people
who wear socks. had a cook once
an awful creature she was, too-and
her husband was a teamster and he
wore knit socks. know, because she
| used to knit the socks in the kitchen
during time that. l was paying her to
/ work for me-"
"But ! don't know any Transfers"
laughed Doris. Really didn't mean
to say was sorry, because | am not.
I l am so happy to think that II really
is going to end some time. only 1t will
/ seem stupid going ba X to the bridge
! parties and teas and things that we
used to spend so much time on be-
fore the war"
Doris went about her work at Red
Cross that day and at canteen that
( afternoon with less than usual of her
natural cheerfulness. She was vexed
with herself TO think that she could
have any selfish regrets when she
knew that In her heart she felt only
( the deepest of joy at the news of pos,
sible peace.
That evening Capt. Robert Bicknell
came in to the boarding house from
the encampment five miles away where
since his return from France he had
! been acting as instructor. He was
seized by the coterie of those who lin
/ gered in the drawing room after din
ner.
! Somehow 1t seemed as If his opinion
/ concerning the outcome of peace talk
would be of more weight since he had
come fresh from n military encamp-
ment. AS a matter of fact the fact
that he had come from the encamp-
ment made him especially reticent
about discussing it-that is, before the
( group of Miss Kings boarders in the
drawing room.
1t was to escape this assemblage
that he begged Doris to take a stroll
down the small town street with him.
"But people notice So" protested Do
ris. you know how those women
babble, and it was only two nights
ago that you were here before"
Eyes" agreed the captain" but per-
haps there won't be many more nights.
I'm not going to annoy you asking you
the old question. l guess you made
yourself about as clear to me as any
girl could. I know you're not the kind
of girl that will accept a man just be-
cause he keeps at her, and I'm not
the kind of man that would want a
woman to marry him just because he
did nag her. But l may be leaving
camp soon, and I just have to talk
things over with you. You told me
you would be interested in me always,
and value your advice. / may be TAX
ing leap in the dark, but / have been
thinking things over and know now
that can't go on the way things were
before the war.
"Then l was content to be cashier
here in the bank. Honestly, do you
know, Doris, when first saw the pa
per this morning and realized that
peace was coming perhaps before 1
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