The Calhoun chronicle. [volume] (Grantsville, W. Va.) 1883-1984, 1920-09-09
THE FLIVVER
BY r. c. HARRINGTON.

&c. 1920. by Mcclure Newspaper Syndicate !
When you go TO New York they
show you the Woolworth building or
the Brooklyn bridge, and when with
craned neck or bullying eyes you mere
ly gasp and exclaim by heck :" then
your Manhattan friend nonchalantly
turns away with the remark, Not a
bad little building"
Just so do the natives of Woodfield
conduct their visiting friends TO the
Stafford poultry farm. Strangers in
variably admire the magnificent home
and grounds of the millionaire owner.
and at sight of the immense farm just
black with poultry houses invariably
their eyes bulge. they gasp and de-
clare, Good night" Its certainly
some place" they say, "but one thing
puzzles me. You say this Stafford is
a millonaire?"
Eyes. sir, Ted Stafford made his
pile all right" and CIV smiles to him
self as if enjoying some secret joke.
We'll, why under the sun doesn't
he buy real automobile? These fliv-
vers of his are camouflaged with wire
wheels and made-to-Order bodies so
they almost deceive you. but still
they're only flivvers when alrs said
and done"
Aha! Cy knew that was coming.
He ticks his chops and begins. For of
all the stories that Woodfield likes TO
tell about her citizens that is the IA
vorite
1t was eight years ago in the month
of June. Ted Stafford and his mother
lived together on their little farm do
ing very prosperous egg business.
the nucleus Of the Stafford poultry
farm. When Ted graduated from Har-
ward two years previous he was en-
tirelv satisfied to settle down as
farmer.
This June afternoon. however. Ted
was not farming. Just after dinner
he took bath and donned his city"
clothes. When he walked into the
kitchen, straw hat in hand. his mother
appraised him with an expression of
proud admiration
Dear me. Ted" she joked, "it's no
wonder Ruth likes Woodfield. GER
tainly admire her taste"
Jaw. cut it out, ma. Say, ma. do
you like this tie?"
OF course she did. And If ma did,
then Ruth surely would
Just now he was setting out for the
station to meet the 3:45. which was
bringing Ruth from the city.
1t was about Quarter-past three
when Ted alighted from the depot
wagon. He hustled into the station
and shouted a greeting to Ira Jones.
who performed the duties of ticket
agent, baggage master and telegraph
operator, and whose official title was
station agent" Ira was the news
center of Woodfeld, since he picked
up the dOings of the surrounding
towns from the agents along the line.
Outside of this, the use of the tele-
graph in WOodfield was negligible.
Whats new, Iry?" queried Ted.
well, they got a new barber down
In Johnsonville, and there's a bur-
lesque show comm inter Eastway
Thursday night. Reckon WoodfieId's
male population will be kinda de-
pleted Thursday p. m. Think you'll
go DOWN."
mo, l guess not, Ira"
Here their dialogue was interrupted
by the clicking of the telegraph re-
ceiver. Ted sauntered over to the gum
machine and SURVEYED himself as best
he could in the little circle of mirror.
He bestowed a second or two on his
tie and began to caress his mustache.
At least Ted claimed it was a mus
tache; but were he not a six-footer
some of his acquaintance might have
differed. However, 1t was still very
young and, like all young things, was
rather weak, with its best days before
1t.
"Tedw Something in Ira's voice
startled him, and he rushed to the
ticket window. CONSERVATION was
written on every line of Ira's face.
"S-say. Ted, w-was there some
friend of yours on the 3:45?"
What's the matter?"
ITS gone over the banking at Fair
field junction. Some mix-up in sig
nals-had a collision"
Ted felt the hot blood surge through
no a. tSiiSos MY GOu Try, 90 tney-
was anybody hurt?"
Ira spent the next few minutes fran
tically clicking his instrument. while
Ted waited tensely, as pale as a stat
tie and as rigid.
What they say. Ira-what they
say?"
HE says they don't know for sure.
but they expect considerable injuries
an maybe some deaths" Ira was
truthful but not tactful.
Ted commenced to pace the floor I'm
frenzy of anxiety. If ne could only
do something-if he could only act
But this suspense
Meanwhile the little instrument
was still clicking This time Ira was
taking a message in pencil with the
cessation Of the clicking he called
out "A wire from Boston for Theo-
dore Stafford"
TED devoured the message and when
ne finished he was weak with joy To
this date he rates that telegram
among his most valuable. possessions.
Mr.. Theodore Stafford, woodHeld.
Mass:
| mis- ed the 3:45. Will arrive
tomorrow morning Taxi broke
II.