davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07
Where There's a Will---

 listened, then heard voices. Silently he crept toward the open window of his living room and crouched down to eavesdrop.
 Douglas, Douglas, I can't marry you, can't. Don't you see I don't love you. It's impossible. I'm in love wtth"-There was a choking noise that made Richards blood run cold. I'm in love with a stranger, a strange man whom I see watching me from his window every day. I don't know him, ; but Ut was just enough for Richard.
 He slipped into his clothes, threw his heavy overcoat over his shoulders, and in jiffy was in the lobby of the next apartment bribing the doorman to let him up to apartment 3-A.
 In response to his knock the door was thrown open and he found him self face to face with his black-eyed beauty and Howard Willoughby.
 Come right in, Dick" Howard greeted him. That is"-he turned to Miss Rommerly apologetically-" if you don't mind my asking an old friend of mine"
 Not at all," she said sweetly, cycling Dicks confused toilette.
 "Any trouble, was there-is there?'
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

the door after her but saw no one in the haIl.~ She went out on the door step and there beside the door stood Bobby and her Jack, Jack Sands!
 "oh, Jack, will you ever forgive me?" after Bobby had disappeared into the school room. Mother wrote and told me it was your cousin you met and then didn't know what to do."
 When Jane came back into the room she was so happy that she gave the children the rest of the day off.
 The end of the year came and when the children were told that they would have different teacher the next year, they were all disappointed except Bob. Of course he hated to have her go but he knew that she was going to be hap py now that she had her Jack.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07
By Phil Moore

Dick asked blankly. "I was awakened by some screams coming from your apartment, Miss-Miss'' stammer- ed for want of her name.
 Miss Rommerly," Howard supplied, ''Mr. Merriweather," he completed the Introduction.
 A light ripple of laughter broke from her rich, red lips before Dick went any further in his explanation.
 Guess we owe MT. Merriweather an apology" she said, turning to How ard. "You see, MT. Merriweather, we are rehearsing our new film drama, and MT. Willoughby, who wrote the play, phoned me this afternoon asking if I might allow him to give me some special coaching. MT. Willoughby and I only met today, but I'm sure," she finished dimpling, that he is an e1- cellent coach.
 You old roue," was all Dick could say as he looked at the mischievous twinkhng eyes of Howard Willoughby, his old college chum. "So that's why you're running all over town to movie companies, never having a moment for an old friend" This was not the place for Towards explanation, so Dick turned the conversation by apologizing
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07
Letters and the M an

prejudiced against him now, and if I have to lose in this case I want to feel that am losing to a better man. See? And as for supporting you, my dear girl. If you'll marry me I can move mountains. Coming down to facts and figures, dad tried out my little invention for regulating over heat in the factory last month and it is a complete success! The returns will bring me in quite a little bunch of money"
 "Why, Bennerman," cried Elsie, her eyes shining. "I'm so glad. You didn't tell me a word about it."
 "No, I'm modest guy-like all real ly great men. Why, met a young fellow in a big scientific institute the other day who has discovered and perfected an antitoxin for gas gan grene. He is the biggest man in the medical world today. He came from the mountains of East Tennessee. He never says a word about himself or about his wonderful discovery for the
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07
How Happiness Came

ardous, to say the least. My own fla ther was a failure, but then he only lived two years. And her next hus- band was no better. And now there's MT. Johnson, her third, who lets her support him. Yet she wants me to have MT. Blom!" she shuddered.
 However, so accustomed was she to obedience that she changed her dress before she went down to supper. MT. Blom sat beside her and talked in his thick Dutch-English and swallowed a great portion of omelette. Mrs. John son smiled upon him her motherliest. MT. Johnson, the new husband, ate toast for his dyspepsia and was hard ly less silent than Sariann.
 Sariann always washed the, dishes and tonight when she repaired to the kitchen, MT. Blom followed. Sariann hated him increasingly as he stood leaning against the casing of the open door, signing like the spring breeze and ogling her.
 Will you go to the movies tonight wid me, Miss Sariann?" he implored.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

a large hand in contradiction. T did it because I'm fond of MT. Blom. He's very nice young man. And you know he gets big wages as a cheese ex- pert over at the factory. His being Dutch ain't anything against him. He'd make you an awful good husband"
 "Oh, mother!" Sariann gasped. She was crimson with shame and dismay. Turning, she went quickly out of the room. In the hall she met MT. Blom entering. He was a little man with furtive eyes, who, to Sartann's disgust, always reminded her of lump of curd he handled. She gave him a curt nod, shrank past him, around the new el post and sped upstairs. In her own room she sat down on the bed and dug her knuckles into her hot cheeks.
 "Oh, hate it all sol" she breathed. This eternal maneuvering of mothers s to get me a husband! She might know I'd never be happy with any one she picked out for me. I wonder that her own mistakes haven't taught her that this marrying business is haz-
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

quietly. q hope that will be in good voice. He is sure to ask me to sing. Why, Bennie, dear" she lapsed into the old childish nickname, I'm almost nervous" She laughed a little in self-conscious fashion. "He has written such story book love letters to me, no wonder that am excited Let's go to the front windows and watch for himl I can just fancy him, strid- ing up the street, a big man, a little gray at the temples, distinguished looking know the types! You can always tell what people are like by their letters. I wish that he would come so that we could have the meet ing over! Why, who is that coming in here, carrying a violin?'
 Two young faces, close together, peered through the curtains at a strange figure advancing up the con crete walk. He was an undersized fellow, possibly five feet, certainly no more, and his head was the only thing about him that one could truthfulIy
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07
By Abner Anthony

Sariann was on her feet, palpftating. but her anger subsided before the old woman's arresting 1ngeTa
 Don't get huffy, child" she said calmly. Everybody in this town knows what everybody else is up to. But don't you fall into the trap your ma and that Dutchman are setting for you. Because he's married already"
 'Married!!" exclaimed Sariann,
 Married and got wife and six young ones in the old country. He abandoned 'em when he came heN. But his wife is no fool. She's been writing letters and she's got him To- cated. So Dr. Burnham save. Here he comes now. You can ask him your self if what I'm telling you isn't true"
 "Oh, no, mol" Sariann faltered. She heard the doctors step and started to run. but old Mrs: Muzzy caught her by the skirt and held her fast.
 Wait" said old Mrs. Muzzy, merr:- ly, I've made many a match in my young days and I ain't too old yeti ain't too old yet"
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

over the facts as Richard had given them to him. In moment a smile broke over his face. Then he looked at Richard with curious light spread ing over his aIlwise features.
 Maybe can find a way" was all he said. 'I'll see you tomorrow and have some news-maybe.
 That evening Richard watched for the familiar figure coming down the street. His window faced her living room and Richard sensed a wild hap piness in his veins at the anticipation of at least catching a glimpse of her as she lolled about, as was her custom after dinner.
 He was disappointed! That night she did not come home. Richard sat down to dinner, a depressed feeling surging through him and stifing the happiness that he had felt only an hour or so before. He retired early.
 He had not been asleep long when he heard sharp cry. He glanced at his watch, found it to be half past g. then sprang from his bed. He listened intently. It was not a nightmare, as he had at first supposed; 1t was real It sounded again. It was coming right across the airshaft into his room. He
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

preservation of human life. He de- ltvers the goods and lets the other fel- lows do the talking. That's the way with really big men. Now, your friend Holt, to judge by his letters, he's about the finest ever
 You are prejudiced, aren't you?" asked Elsie cool1y. "Mr.- Holt merely told me bit about himself because I had no way of finding out other wise-'
 "Now, you're talking" came the young Americans slang. "And what's more, you never will hear anything about his brilliant achievements un- less he tells you himself
 From somewhere in the house sound ed the faint chiming of a clock Three silvery tones died away. Elsie jumped up and surveyed herself in a mirror hanging on the wall. She touched the soft brown waves of hair with her long, slender fingers.
 Its time for MT. Holt" she said
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

T will not,' Sariann replied without the mercy of thank you. She emptied the dish water with a splash.
 You do not like me. not? Why?" appealed MT. Blom.
 "Just on general principles" retort- ed SaBiann, and escaped.
 t'Sariann! Sariann!" Her mother called from the sitting-rcop where she sat embroidering in company with her husband. But Sariann fled. She was out in the street before she knew it.. bareheaded, with her dress all too low for the breezy spring night.
 Between mother and that Blom believe I'm going crazy" she thought wildly. "Oh, what was that?"
 It was a hand-rapping on nearby window pane-a very dry, wrinkled old hand. Its old Mrs. Muzzy," Sari- ann thought, in panic. What can she want? Oh, can't go in there! She's a terrible old creature, mother says. But perhaps she's ill.,
 Sariann mounted the. rotting steps
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

town? Why, man alive, she is my neighbor-that ought to be enough and yet 1t isn't, because people in this big old town are too conventional. An introduction is necessary, and I simply can't find any one to bring 1t about
 Howard Willoughby looked at Dick with sympathetic expression. You know what you've always said about where there's a Will-'
 Dick was man of facts and he had brought Howard into his confidence that he might help him bring about a solution to the problem that was be- ginning to be a real source of worry.
 Whats she do for 1iving?" How ard asked. You say she goes out ev- cry evening. She must work at some thing"
 Hanged if know" Dick replied. She's plain, very plain, but there's a grace to her body that doesn't last when one works at desk all day." he volunteered by way of a clue "She must do some kind of physical work and yet she is always so simply dress ed in her little plain blue tailored suit. Then she has that little aristocratic air about her that bespeaks success" :"
 Howard Willoughby sat thinking
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

of the forlorn dwelling and opened the door. Old Mrs. Muzzy crouched like a witch at the window in the failing light.
 Are you sick?" Sariann asked. What do you want?"
 Old Mrs. Muzzy eyed her. "Sit down, child, and I'll tell you. Not that chair its the cats, and you'll get all hair. There! I've been wanting to see you for days and tell you, but you know I cant stir out of the house. It's doc tor, doctor, all the time for this pesky rheumatiz. But I've got a good doctor pr. Burnham. There's a man what is a man! You know him?"
 Yes Sariann coIored. That is, I just know him. MT. Johnson had him once when he was ill."
 Old Mrs. Muzzy nodded knowingly. "I wish you'd get better acquainted with him." she said. He's looking for a wife and you, hear, are looking for husband-that is, your mas looking for one for you"
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

for his appearance.
 Perfectly all right, and do come over again, MT. Merriweather, Carolyn invited when he took his departure 3 few moments later.
 "I'll surely do that with pleasure" he emphasized, and he and Howard turned down the corridor and took the lift to the lobby.
 You're wiz, How" Dick chuckled, whereupon Howard explained how the deed had been done. "I looked up her address after I left you, found it to be our movie star in the company where I sold my last scenario, then proceeded to meet her myself. Took her to dinner, then de- cided to do little coaching so she'd be prepared for that gruff manager.
 "I only inserted those special lines you heard temporarily" Howard chuclled in conclusion, knowing only too well you were lying in ambush across that airshaft waiting for an op- portunity to play hero"
 There's no favor too great to ask in reciprocation," Dick said, as he saw Howard into a cab at the curb, land that holds good-even if she does turn me down."
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

of the office building where he main tained his very prosperous establish ment.
 All during his mornings work the pale face with its dark, hollow eyes pkept haunting him. Every now and then he would find himself gazing at a typewritten sheet b1ank1y. He was looking straight through the slip on which was typed the most profitable order of the entire year-at Carolyn Rommerly's face. He had to use all his strength to keep his mind suf- ficiently on his work to wade through the mornings mall.
 eff could only get to know her," he explained to Howard Willoughby at lunch that day, "Td be perfectly willing to let Fate put her hand in the game and then humb1y accept the re- suit. As 1t is I feel as though I'm missing a wonderful adventure if I don't even get to meet her"
 Don't you know some mutual friend" Howard had begun to suggest, but Richard cut him short with a gesture of impatience.
 Mutual friend he hanged. Did you ever hear of any two people having a mutual friend in this big, lonesome
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

cheeks were full of color. The caller had arrived while Mrs. Johnson was in the midst of making an omelet for supper, and everything remained as it had been left hurrtedly. Sariann put on an apron and took up the egg beat CT. When her mother came out she had the omelet ready for the pan.
 ''Why, when did you get home?' in quired Mrs. Johnson. "Therel I'll do the rest, dearie. You run up and slip into another dress before supper. Your hairs real kinda tousled, and there's some typewriting ink on your left cheek. MT. Blom is such neat young man."
 "I'm too tired to change my dress, and I don't care about that Dutchman, anyway. I don't see why you allowed him to come here and board" There was a note of passionate protest in Sa- riann's gentle voice. "He makes lot of extra work and we don't need the money
 ''Now, deariei" Mrs. Johnson spread
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07
By Elsie Endicott.

term big. His loose gray trousers sagged dejectedly at the knees and his coat was several inches too long. He was looking intently at the number over the door and his bulg1ng eyes, from behind his horn-rimmed spec tacles, held the glassy stare of a bull frogs. His soft hat was rolled lit tie on one side, it's jaunty air intensi- lying his pathetically grotesque ap- pearance.
 The maid brought in his card-Mr. William Wilburton Holt.
 More name than man." whispered Bennerman Meredith wickedly.
 Elsie nerved herself for the ordeal MT. Holt came into the room, one hand outstretched while the other one gripped a worn violin case.
 "Iy dear girl, it is with great pleas ure that I am at last privileged"
 "Mr. Holt, I want you to meet my fance, MT. Bennerman Meredith said Elsie, interruptfng his flow of English.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

kids out there in that Western desert?'
 "I have told you several times how I happened to hear about him and why I wrote to him. Our minister, old pr. Kachin, has known MT. Holt for years. MT. Holt was a professor in a North ern university until his health failed and he went West to recuperate."
 70 hunger, I''11 bet, on his last legs now," interrupted Bennerman, savage ly.
 "Oh, no," said Elsie quickly, "he is quite well and strong. He wrote to Dr. Kachin about a college position here that had been offered to him. At the same time he inquired about the musical circle in this town-he is a gifted violinist, as told you-so Dr. Kachin asked me to reply in regard to the music. That is the way our correspondence began. It was all very nice and proper, under the eyes Of Rev. Kachin, as you know" Elsie was growing a little vindictive, angered
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07
uMw

IF T E knows English as well as
 you understand sports or I
 know the subject of clothes" !" said Elsie Gaines enthusiastically, as she refoIded a bulky letter and pushed it back into an envelope that seemed to feel the strain of it's responsibili- ties in carrying such an epistle almost to the breaking point. And you must admit, Bennerman Meredith" she con- tinued, that MT. Ho1t's letters are charming Yes, Bennerman, he really ts big man. The reason read you parts of his letter was to make you realize what an attractive person he is. And today" she concluded ecstat- tca1ly, today I am to meet him."
 Bennerman strode up and down the cozy little living room, stopping oc- casfonally to look at the pretty girl before the fire. "I think that the feI- low Is presuning to write such senti- mental rot to girl whom he has never seen- Why, hang 1t all, Elsie, how do you know that he hasn't wife and
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

because her own position had been at tackled.
 50 my proposal is to hang fire un- til the stranger arrives within our gates and you give him the once over before you decide the momentous question. Do you think that's quite fair, considering that have loved you always? Oh, girl, say you'll marry me. Then, if you find that you like him better, I'll release you, but please say that you are engaged to me for lit tie while, anyway"
 "I'm going to be fair to everybody, and I'm not going to be engaged un- til I am sure of myself. So there. You're just the spoiled son of a, rich man, Bennerman. Do you think that you could make living for me if you suddenly lost your fortune? MT. Holt is self-made. He has worked himself up in the world by sheer perseverance and abi1ity.''
 Don't talk about that little college chair-warmer any more. I'm almost
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

of my own age.'
 The boys and girls of her age around there went away as soon as they were old enough to marry or go to work.
 Never mind, teacher, I'm sure it will all come out right" Bobby thought of the young man that came to his house that morning to board, while doing some business in that town. He was young and Bobby had heard his mother say that he was very handsome.
 That night Bobby watched his chance and when he was alone with the young man he began to question him
 "Mr. Sands" said Bobby, were you ever lopesome?"
 "Why I don't remember that have been lonesome. Why?"
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07
By JoeIla Johnson

The next day Bobby stayed after school. He told Miss Jane that he wanted to talk with her and before the conversation went far, little Bob knew the whole story of her unhappiness, and strange to say that it correspond ed with the one that MT. Sands had told.
 Little Bob, despite his nine years understood as much as a boy of twelve or fourteen.
 Tomorrow" said the little peace maker. "I am going to make you hap py,' and with these words he ran home to leave Jane to her own thoughts.
 The next day when teacher took the attendance, Bob wasn't in his seat but in about an hour there came a knock at the door. Jane went out and closed
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

T BANNING far out of the front
 window of his apartment on
 the third floor, he watched the neat figure vanish around the cor ner. Then Richard Merriwether drew himself back, and with glance at the clock, hurriedIy donned his hat and overcoat. A few moments later he passed out through the door and down into the street at pace which. though rapid, scarcely kept up with his thoughts.
 His housekeeper gazed after him with a knowing twinkle in her Irish blue eyes. then she shrugged her shoulders and chuckled to herself
 Richard hastened toward the end of the street and looked sheepishly around the corner. The little slim "black-eyed beauty" had disappeared. Maybe, he thought, if had hurried a little and not taken those last few sec onds to see that my derby was on straight, might have been able to see at least in what direction this mystert- ous little puff of feminism had gone" Then he jibed himself for being a fool.
 None like her," he muttered to himself, then swung into the corridor
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

for spelling 8 word wrong.
 When Bobby was alone with his teacher that night he pretended to study hard, but he couldn't keep his eyes off his teachers face. She evil dently had forgotten that he was in the room, for she was crying as if her heart would break. Bobby could stand this no longer.
 Teacher said a timid little voice, "why are you crying?"
 "Oh, Bobby. I forgot you were here. l am crying because I am so lonely and want to go home, but I can't go until I finish this term
 Why, my Jane teacher. haven't you got mel"
 "Yes, Bobby, but you don't under stand that I wish for boys and girls
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07
A Child Shall Lead Them

Well, thought that if you had you might give me some idea what to do for someone love that is awful lone some. She was crying this afternoon"
 "Who is she?" inquired the interest ed MT. Sands.
 Why, my pretty Jane teacher. She is awfully lonesome for someone her age. She told me so this afternoon. She's awful cross lately"
 What does your Jane teacher look like?''
 Bobby described her the best he could and MT. Sands wondered if she really was as beautiful as Bobby said.
 "She's my girl," Bobby finally said.
 "Oh, I didn't know she was a little girl. I thought you said she was your teacher said MT. Sands, rather dis
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

appointed.
 "She does teach school and she is my girl. She says so herself. She was 19 years old a little while ago, and she gave us a little party up at the school on her birthday. She seems so sad now Have you ever felt sad?"
 'Yes, Bobby, was sad once. I low ed a girl about a year ago and we were very happy until one night I went to the station to meet my cousin and I met Jane on the way home. When she saw me with another girl we had a quarrel. and she wouldn't let me explain. She went away and don't know where she is now"
 "Is her name Jane, too?" inquired Bob.
 "Yes''
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1920-05-07

~ ARIANN could hear her mother "a talking to a caller in the par
 Tor as she closed the front door and removed her shabby little blue serge coat and toque in the hall. Johnson's shrill tones easily penetrat- ed the thin partition and the thinner portieres.
 Look at that photograph, Mrs. Kel- lam. Amt he splendid! He was Sart- ann's vocal teacher in the last place we lived before we moved here. He corresponds with her regular; seems like he can't give her up."
 "It will make a match, won't it?'' said good natured, gossipy Mrs. Kel- lam.
 Hard telling. Sariann is so partic- ular. There was MT. Gitchell, as fine a young man as you'd wish to see she wouldn't look at him. And look at the way she treated MT. Blom, and he right here in the house, too."
 Sariann moved on to the kitchen. Her heart was beating and her pale