Gilpin observer., 1920-11-25
The
Wrong Envelope
By JESSIE DOUGLAS

So0eSH&SSAoANNNNN0sN
% 1889. sy Mcclure Newspaper syndicats.l
Marjorie laid the wet glasses in q
row, where they shone like so many
iridescent soap bubbles. Mechan-
ically she put the silver into the wire
drainer next to them and then forgot
that there was such thing as dish
washing.
If only had the-courage," she
said aloud.
She looked out through the low
kitchen window to the hollyhocks that
stirred family In the morning breeze,
past them to the blue line of hills and
far off to puff of cloud. feather
white on old Sugar Loaf.
"Tll do It'll" she dared herself.
Then she came back to the dish
washing and went on swiftly with
quick. sure strokes until the white
kitchen was shining with scrubbed
table and swept floor and plates all
in a row.
She whisked through the work this
morning until at last with a sigh of
relief she took up her bottle of ink,
her stub pen and her very best writ
Ing paper. On the stone step at the
kitchen door she sat down, safe from
interruption.
For long time she bit her pen and
sought for her first sentence until,
forgetful Of her purpose, she sat there
looking into a pleasant past and a fu-
ture that might be roseate.
She remembered the first time she
had met Dickey. She was carrying
the butter home from the Spring farm
and he had come swiftly up behind
her and asked If he might take it for
her. She could still see the frank
smile in his blue eyes and the way
he tossed back his head to keep that
one lock Of hair out Of his eyes.
Somehow they had found something
she had been delighted in his hearty
chuckle. They had stopped over the
spring after they had gone q mile
and Dickey had scooped the clear, icy
water up In his curved palms for her
to drink.
Could she ever forget the way his
laughing blue eyes had looked down
into her dark ones; or how he had
taken her hand in his big calloused
one and led her across the slippery
stones Of the brook, for the shortcut
home?
They had been friends ever since
that morning-friends in varying
stages Of friendship. They had quar-
relied and made 1t up and always with
that same frank comradeship that
limited no sentimental relation.
When she had first fallen in love
with him Marjorie could not tell, but
OF sudden she knew she was
wretched when she was with him.
The candid friendship of his eyes
hurt. for she wanted something more,
his hearty handclasp was like the grip
Of brother.
"Why," Marjorie Dean asked her.
self, hadn't Dickey Stevens fallen
In love with her? Was 1t because
he had seen her washing the dishes
with pink and white checked apron
tied around her waist? Was 1t be-
cause they were too good friends and
he knew her in all the simple honest
ways-too well?"
Nhhu -hoW liic tliuc udu COME
for him to decide. For he was going
away, going to work out his own sal
walton on bit Of government land
in the West. Dickey would be gone
for year, and a year is a very long
time in any ones life.
She could feel already his steady
hand-clasp. and the way his blue eyes
would look into hers and he would
ask her to write! No. she couldn't
endure 1t. Girls were told they must
sit quietly at home and wait-it was
the mans place.
But I could help him sol" Mar
Jorie told the little black kitten that
had stolen around to sit on her skirts;
''he'll be so lonely of there-we can
laugh through the hardships, and
should love 1t all, cooking for him
and mending and making house
pretty. Oh, he'll need mew
Then she dipped her pen Of a sud-
den into the Ink and began to write.
Dear Mr.. Wilmer (she began).
Thank you for sending that wonder
ful package of books. I've dipped
into the novel already and 1 know I
shall like the verse-but you mustn't
do this sort Of thing SO often; shall
be glad to see you in August, when
you come on your vacation, and As
you say. this Il the prettiest country
a. -