davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1920-03-19

tAsnss sSsut Aes. she has . nttSe
tia Beg In which she kept the many
little personal elects 80 closely i.ter-
wsvsa with her strange life.
Ruth was not crasy-aithsuGh shs
must Asve bee. esveSspeA In . fre.sy
Of fe.r wAe. she killed Clia saS Her
self.
She was such Q wholesome gfrit In
fact. her hasaAsess II Whist AaSe
her so IovubIe. Her dairy gives nute
testiassy Of this, and what could be
more tragic than her longinssfor his
companionship. Above everything
else. Ruth wanted 4 home.
Often she told me that she never
had q home, and would elaborate for
hours upon her plans for a place she
could call her own. pitied her. for
she never seemed 10 have hsd the en-
virosnent Of . happy hsne. psr the
protection ana guidance Of loving
parents. Neither ala she seen 10
have my hohest and wholesome
friends-men or women.
she spent days and days Of every
year In her life alone. She tells of
her lonliness best in a letter written
on Lincoln's Birthday.
Unhappy wAen Alone.
~ am not unwilling to be happy"
she wrote. 'Tf see anyone know,
or even a street car conductor speaks
to me courteously as I stand beside
him on TIE platform, i am always
ready with . smile and q jolly word.
Hut when I am aIsae there are NJ
smiles--set sne happy thought
nethinG! Jast AesSIatisn and lssg-
Ing fer the end that will net eene.
So many people are Ill now and die
with the hu. I cannot get 1t. 1t
seems. I just 60 along day after day,
half sick. ready to e any tiDe-lsng-
ing t. 70. and nothing ever happens.
Cliff says I An morbid. Well, 1 can't
be cheerful even when I see hin, BE-
cause I feel he doesn't belenG t. me.
1 am thinking eveV Aiaute that ts-
morrow I shall set see han."
Ruth continually. wsnanlfke, seem-
ed to have q psesentiment Of what
the enc weulA be. She seemed to ex-
pect SEINE sort Of m enlins like the
tragedy that AnalIy came. She feared
IT. and yet DruyeA fer IL 70 come.
When she was here, and in letters
she wrote me after going to Chicago,
she often talked about saicide and
death, but I never took her seriously.
Never. though. did she mention the
thought Of killing Bleyer. I believe
she killed him in . At OF Jealous
frenzy. II she could not have him
IL she must give him up-she deter
mined that no one else should have
him.
Upon conclusion Of publlea tioa Of
the diary OF Ruth Randall, The Tines
will print In installments her letters
to Mas Delahsaty. They give iati-
mate gilmpSes Of the csaAiet which
ragged within the soaI Of the woman
who pinned all her hopes for happi-
ness in the low she bore the wealthy
Chicago clubnaa and whose affection
she realised she could never share
The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1920-03-19
LLOYD GEORGE WORKING
FORM FUSION PARTY
Ceslitioa Liberals and Unionists
Propose Organization 10 Fight
Sprssd u Socialism.

LONDON. March iss-ExceedinE In
interest. probably. the developments
- world events. the effort OF Premier
Lloyd George and the coalition LIB
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26
The Art of Cam moufl e,

you'll feel better And she patted the shaking shoulders. tender1y, and held the tear-stained face close to her, all unmindful of the danger of mussing the spotless calico.
 :, We'll said the girl, lifting her head when the tears had subsided a a bit, yolr know, grandma, that our float is to represent Joan of Arc go- ing before the King and felt so proud when they selected me to be Joan.,''> !
 Especially since Will Is to be the King" interrupted grandma, smiling.
 Alice b1ushed-but went on bravely. ;!aWe1l, the men raised enough money
 to provide the costumes. but there were so many little things. needed be- sides.' that each one of the girls vol sunteered to donate one thing at her > own expense, in addition to the work that she did. Now.- my donation was to be the piece of tapestry that is need ed to hang behind the kings throne
 tears threatening to
 overflow once more) "and--I just can t get it-and. that's all. You know it's
 taken every penny that I could spare
 of the money I've earned from the art posters, to pay back wha. borruwed : to finish my last year at school. I've
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26

you'll go up to the attic and get me a. large piece of calico from the old chest I'll run down to the library and get some, prints of some of the old tapestries of the days of Joan of Arc to copy the pattern from. I'll be back in half an hour, and when I get through I promise that you'll see a piece of wartime camoufage that will keep the whole town of Deerbridge guessing.
 - The King. sat majestically upon his throne; respiendent in his regal robes. Suspended from the poles. behind his chair hung a large curtain of tapestry, while carpeting the steps that led to the throne was another piece similar in workmanship and design.
 At the foot of the steps, in gleaming armor, stood Joan or Arc looking up at him, and as the beautifully decorat- ed float passed around the corner of the Pike road murmur of approval went up from the watchers and round after round of applause was, heard.
 Grandma Palmer stood on the yer anda of the White Cottage and her heart swelled with pride att the sight of her little girl.
 What a gorgeous bit of tapestry that was,'' remarked one of her neigh
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26
By Elsie Endicott

Mrs. Merits mind was tumble of whirling thoughts.
 You wrote me you were in trou ble," she accused. :. q am-worrying over leaving you the way did" And your husbands going to leave youf"
 "He is; for business trip through the Vest said Hazel. And I want you to come and stay with me while he's gone" Then her young voice grew soft and tender. "Oh, Mother Merit. We're both so sorry. We didn't realize what we were doing. It seemed romantic. But Porter's father gave us both great talking to when he knew. His mothers dead, you know. And we planned this trick tonight, be- cause I knew the best way to touch your heart was to make you sorry for me-"
 "Um-m. Perhaps I ought to be-" suggested her foster mother.
 Hazel's laugh rang sweetlyf I'm the happiest little wife in the world now," she declared. "Porter's good as gold"
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26
By Joella Johnson

ure and financial anxiety of that first year of her married life until she be- gan to feel tempted and uneasy and discontented,
 Well" said Gertrude, smiling. Tt isn't too late now. You go with me. Jessie. when I go. Will"
 "Stop!" It was Mrs. Bates voice. stern and harsh. Stop this instant, Gertrude Whitaker. won't allow 1t. You're a regular temptress. Don't you listen to her, Jessie. The idea of her wanting you to leave your husband and go with her! I hope you've got too much sense to heed her."
 ."Yes. I've got too much sense" " Jessie said. She stood up and fum- bled blfnd1y at her gloves. Her lips were pale and quivering. '1ve got too much sense, of course. Only" She thrust her arms into the coat Mrs. Bates was holding for her.
 Run along up the hil1,' the older woman said. Its begun to snow and darken. Some night after Gertrude's $ gone I shall want you and Preston to come down to supper. There! Now you're all cosy and warm. Run along dear child" She kissed Jessie warm ly and bundled her out the door witt an air of wishing to get her away as quickly as possible.
 It was showing thick and fast. Tn, cold flakes fell st1ngingly upon Jessiei unprotected face as she mounted tn hill. Her feet were slow, her hear heavy. She shivercd, but not with tn cold As she passed under the bar little tree where the "knee-deep" ha
 drilled on her way down the hill,
 light shone out upon her. It wa
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26

goodness knows, if only the pattern
 She stopped short and stood staring at her grandmother as though she nev- CT expected to see her. again.
 :. "Grandna!""+. she fairly shouted at last, -."Grandna., The pattern!, Why can't I make the pattern? Paint, 1t! I'm sure. can, and. nobody need ever know the difference. Here's where my art school training. will stand. me in good, stead! Get me piece of cali co, dear, qu1ck!" And she ran for her palette and brushes:
 "Here!" cried the old lady,: no less excited than the" girl. "Here!" and she lifted the hem of her voluminous calico gown. Try it on this!"
 Silence. reigned, and at the end of Is minutes Alice held up the hem of her grandmother's calico house dress, where in a little square space. by. the addition of numerous spots and figures made blythe paint brush in her clever hands she had transformed the calico print into an imitation of a tapestry design that almost def1ed detection. -
 "Camoufage! That's what I call it!"~ she declared '@trimphantly, rising to her feet And quite the proper thing to do in these times of war and conservation. Now Granny dear, if
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26

Nick. I don't want him following me into town"
 Preston whistled to the dog and Jes- sic swung down the hill alone. She was very happy.
 It was du1lswfnter'se day, with snow hanging upon the horizon in thick, leadeh clouds piled up like vast dis tant mountains. Knee deep" sang on the wan bough of wayside tree. Jessie shook her hand at him. We've had snow enough, you little trickster!" she said
 At the foot of the hill the town be- gan struggling along to center of lively congestion. Jessie's destination did not lie at the center, though close to 1t The house she sought was a rather isolated, old one on a principal street, She rang the bell and an el- derly woman came to the door.
 Why, how do you do. Jessiei" she exclaimed Come right in. Ger trude's out now, but she'll be back in a few moments. She'll be so glad. to zee you. Take that chair by the radi- ator, and draw off your coat. Did you walk down?"
 "Yes, I walked" Jessie replied. Preston was busy and I didn't mind. There's a good track all the way"
 Since you went up on the hill to live I never see you any more," said Mrs. Bates. "I was telling Gertrude so. There! I guess that's her step now on the veranda-"
 Jessie heard the step and her face flushed with expectation as she turned it toward the door. She had not seen Gertrude Whitaker in year, and they had once been all in all to each oth- CT. Her heart beat nervously as the
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26

been everywhere in this town trying to beg, borrow or hire piece of tap estry. and the only place that has any wants so much money for 1t, that it's simply out of the question. : I. just can't bring myself to tel1|f tie other girls at this late day, and I certainly feel like Stacker to accept the prin-, cipal part, and then not contribute my share. So there you have the whole story!' And Alice sank back. in her chair more dejected than ever.s-, ;.
 Well, well, that certainly is too bad" agreed Grandma Palmer sympa- thetically. We surely can't allow the whole parade. to be spoiled over a piece of tapestry, and I'n sure it would be spoiled for one young man, anyway. if they had to put in a. new Joan of Arc at the last moment Have you looked in my old chest in the at tic, dear? There are such number of things in it. Perhaps you might find something that would do."
 "No, Granny, dear, I searched way down to the bottom,'' answered the girl. That was the first place I thought of There was plenty of cal leo in it-yards and yards of it-but nothing that would take the place of tapestry. There's plenty of material,
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26

scarcely dark enough for a lamp, Dut there was one in the kitchen window. Preston had set it there to cheer her began to walk faster. Before she reached the door she smelled faint odor of frying bacon. She opened the door and went in.
 Preston stood beside the stove trying to do two things at once-read the daily paper and turn the sizzling ba- con. He turned a joyous face toward her. Hello, my girl. I thought 1t was just about time for you, so was getting supper" he cried. Take your things right off and sit down at the table, Teas all made and everything. There! Give me your coat and I'll shake 1t out the door. This is going to be heavy snow. They got 1t in New York yesterday. I was just reading about 1t in the paper. Gee, I'm glad I'm here and not there-surface cars all blocked, railroads tied up, wires down. And worst of all, so many people out of work-telephone con- panyS d1SchaTged 0uhOIeoS IL udiu times. in the city, all right. How'd you find your friend?
 Jessie looked round the low, com fortable kitchen, at the storm press ing at the windows; at her husband. tall, rugged, with such tender seri- ousness in his dark eyes as he brushed her coat and hung it up to dry. She could not speak, and when she did not he inquired again in surprise
 How'd you say your friend was?'
 Suddenly Jessie threw herself into his arms "Oh, don't call her my friend" she murmured. "She's the worst enemy I ever had"
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26

VT was to be a great affair, there
 was no doubt of it. All the art
 school alumnae were pledged to do their best to make the Victory pa rade a success. The men were fur nishing the money and the girls were making the costumes.
 Excitement ran high in every house in Deerbridge save one, and there gloom reigned supreme, although from the outside no one would have suspect ted 1t, for 1t was a very attractive lit tlo dwelling. situated on the Pike road, just where the parade was to pass in review before all the town notab1es.
 The White Cottage" 1t was called. and there dwelt old Mrs. Palmer, who was "grandma" to all the young folks of Deerbridge, and her granddaughter, Alice. Alice Palmer, by dint of much hard work and very careful planning Chow carefurwas;known only to gran ny and herself), had managed to com plete her four years at the art school only the year before; and no one had entered more enthusiastically than she into the plans for the parade-with her grandmother almost as eager and fully as willing to help.
 But with the great event only one week away, Alice came slowly up the
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26
By Kbner Anthony

bors who was viewing the parade from the White Cottage"
 "Yes, indeed, it is,' answered the old lady dryly, mot only gorgeous, but rare-very rare. Indeed. I'm positive there's not another piece like it in ex- istence. It was Alice's contribution to the Art Alumnae Float
 '1ndeed,'' murmured the neighbor politely. "I did not know that you pos sessed such a priceless relic.'' But Mrs. Palmer did not see fit to enlight- en\ her further upon the subject.
 Tired, but happy, Will brought Alice back to the White Cottage" that even ing.
 Well, wasn't it finer" he asked Grandma Palmer as they sat in the cosy sitting room. You know, in real history, the king didn't marry Joan of Arc-but in this case it's going to be little bit different" And he looked meaningly at Alice.
 Well, this won't be the only thing that's not exactly like the original responded the girl, happily, "and though I hope there won't be anything that's not genuine about the kings TO- nance, there certainly was camouf1age about the decorations for his throne.
 And then she told him the story.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26

guess.
 Three days after Hazers disappear ance, a letter had come in her hand writing. addressed to Mrs Merit Dun bar. It also bore the stamped address of city hotel. and to this: place 1t was promptly returned without reading.
 After a while other bits of interest ing gossip drifted round the social cir cles of the village. In some way 1t be- came known that a letter. had been re- .ceived and returned unopened.
 "Now, Merit Dunbar's showing some grit" approved one. But Hazel1l be back yet. Just wait. Begging to be taken in, likely"
 That's the way such affairs .gener- ally end. And I've. heard that the young rascal she went away with was a dreadful reckless fellow, and fairly threw money away. And I've heard"
 Thereupon, the missing Hazel's hus- band was invested with such traits as would stamp him inevitably. as an-un- scrupulous ne'er-do7well, calculated to bring disgrace and disaster to a fool ish trusting girl.
 These rumors. agitated the gentle heart of Merit Dunbar. She began to think of Hazel as more sinned against than shining; to wonder if her punish ment would not be more severe than even her, wrong-doing warranted.t Ha- gel and her husband at her door pleading forgiveness, could be deal1
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26

path that led to the White Cottage" one lovely afternoon and flung herself dejectedly into the first chair that she came to.
 Why dearie. what's the matter? what's the matter?" said Grandma Palmer in surprise, comin g. out of the kitchen, immaculate as always in her spotless, old-fashioned calico print; for Grandma Palmer scerned all ."this new-fangled stuff" that they used for clothes nowadays. ,':Whatever has happened to you. child?" aFor it was most unusual for Alice to act in this fashion, for it was her sunny disposi- ton that had helped her, to, endear her to everyone in Deerbridge. --* '-zt:- >~.
 What is it?" asked Grandma Palm CT again. "has, something gone wrong about the parade?" For answer, Alice burst into tears. #- .E-' .'N%' sr' ."I don't see how I can be in. the. pa rade at all,'' she sobbed, "and after I've worked so hard. and. everybody expects me to do so we11-but I cant T just can't" and she cried bitter 1y. S.--,,,s- .-r.t4
 There, there, my dear,''~ said the old lady. comforting her, you Just have your cry out, and then you tell grandma all about it,. and know
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26

door opened and Gertrude entered.
 That first glance showed Jessie how muchs7Gertrude had changed during the year that she had been working in the city. She was a figure of fash ion in her handsome brown suit and toque and tawny furs. She had on 8 little veil .edged5 with scallops that just came to her nose. Through 1t her Geyes looked large and coquettish.
 Why, it's-Jessie!" she said.
 ''Yes. :sit's-Jessie." Jessie stood up. She held out her hand. Gertrude clasped 1t with her perfectly gloved fingers, but she did not offer kiss. ''I'm delighted to see you" she said perfunctorily. Just excuse mo till put away my coat and hat"
 She left the room. When she came back and sat down Jessie eyed her with admiration. Gertrude had caught the prevailing air of elegant simplici- ty in dresssa and 1t was very becoming. She looked more like a little lady of leisure than girl who earned her own living as she leaned back in her , chair, critically examining carefully manicured nail.
 "Well?" inquired Mrs. Bates. What did you see down street?''
 Snow. and then some.T Gertrude smiled. "Oh, saw team or two come to bring the womenfolk to town to do their Saturdays trading" She mimicked: the local vernacular c1ev- erly. "Auntie, I wouldn't come back to this poky old burg to live for any thing in the world. I don't see how stood 1t as long as did. don't sec how you stand 1t. As for you. Jessie way up there on the hill-why. it must feel like you were buried alive!"
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26
A Wolf Tn Sheep s Clothes


 Now, Gertrude, 1t isn't as bad as, all that,' Mrs. Bates tried to say tactfully. You didn't use to think it was either when you lived here"
 "Oh, I didn't know any better then. But now do. never grew up till I got to New York. Of course, it's no use talking to you two about. it. for you wouldn't understand. You're back juzt where was a year ago." Mrs. Bates laughed. "Just hear her, Jessie! She's been going, it this way ever since she came. You'd think we were heather and she was the only original missionary. I tell her she's got New York on the brain"
 Jessie sat silent She was trying hard to readjust all her ideas of Ger trude. Somehow she did not seems to know this stylish little creature with quisitely delicate complexion. and hands. Gertrude's appearance fascin- ated her; she could not keep her glance from straying over 1t continu= ally-a glance that was growing every instant more wistful and wondering.
 "I wish," Gertrude said, thoughtful ly, that I'd got hold of Jessie sooner and made her go with me. It would have been the making of you, J essie. She's smarter than I am and she'd have worked up faster if anything. get $14 week now with a bonus,- and I've only been there a year. 1t isn't hard work-not half as hard and com plicated as it is here in the. country with their old-fashiened .switehboards and apparatus. I only have to walk five blocks to my apartment. and oi course can always ride. There are four of us in the apartment; it's
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26
IT. he eRepentan t

with icoIdly and sterply. She would never forgive them, she thought. But Hazels. deserted and wretched, alone Ather foster mothers vision s1eaped of a once happy home. To this figure, creeping to her in the shadows; fig ure holding, a swathed bundle to its breast, seeking the light and warmth 0 ia once happy home. To this figure, would eshe--could she-withhoid for giveness?,
 v Every morning when the cottage windows were opened on the deWy garden. Mrs. .Dunbar's' first thought was of the 1aissing girl who had loved to work among the growing flowers. Every night when the cottage doors were locked and the lights dimmed, the foster-mother would pause at the door of the deserted room on the way to her own bed-chanber, and whisper little prayer for. the truant's safety.
 There was no great surprise, there fore. when Mrs. Merit heard a tapping on shef door one mellow evening in early autumn, and gangling lad de- 'nvered a note. She's waiting" he crooked mysteriously. and disappeared before be. could be questioned.
 !. With trembling fingers, the woman ,smoothed the folded pages.
 "Dear Mother Merit." she read. in a handwriting that was familiar, but ;suspfciously shaky. please come tc me. T. want to see you so much. My
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-07-26

-AHERE was a consensus of opin-
 ion in the small town when
 Hazel. Dunbar eloped with youn man, whom she had only known . few weeks.
 Merit Dunbar never should have adopted child in the first place. said 4sone. to which opinion others nodded assent, adding:s Especially of that 1fght-minded Seeley stock. Dena seeleT would never. have. been any thing but a child if she had lived to be a hundred. And Rafe cared more about hddling than farming. If Merit Dunbar must adopt"
 .why must? She was just feeling lonesome after Dunbar was lost at sea, though goodness knows he was never at home long enough to be missed"
 ~Then she spoiled Hazel in the bringing up," went on the friendly voices. "She left her grow up flip perty-jack, like her mother, and even let her take lessons on her fathers fd- dle." x
 Echoes of these remarks and frag- ments of the general village gossip came to the ears of Mrs. Merit Dun bar, but. she had nothing to say in re- taliefion Or sdefense. What she suf- fered in her most recent sorrow and bereavement she alone realized. Wha it meant: to her to go about a silent empty house. unassisted at her simple uaais. those who knew her could onl.