The Rock Island Argus and daily union., 1922-03-06
WITH SILVER LACE.
BY Myrta Alice Little.
Copyright, 1922, by Wheeler Syn
dicate, InC.D

| Copyright, 1922, by Wheeler Syn
dicate, InCD
| Fraid Eaton was little and old
and mouse-colored. His real name
was Fred But from the day he
had been sent, a scared, shy or
phan, to his uncle, folks in Hill
town had called him "Fraid."
He'd always been afraid; afraid
he wouldn't pile the wood right,
afraid he'd go to the foot of the
spelling class, but more than any
| thing else. afraid that he would
do something that Miss Selma
! Drew wouldn't like. Selma lived
in a little white house a look and
a hollow from the lonely clearing
where F'raid lived. Selma was
magnificent She had always been
magnificent to Fraid Eaton. He
worshipped her plump, rosy face.
He looked far up into her brown
eyes and wished with all his f1ut-
tering heart that he could get up
the courage to tell her he loved
her. That was Fraid's great, over
whelming desire.
And now that Fraid's uncle had
died and he lived alone in the small
DIoW IL uOuS6 anu ltlduS SllOCS III q
corner of the kitchen, now that his
round head had only rim of hair
around it, and his blue eyes were
misty, he loved Selma with extra
love for every year he'd been doing
it. She had daily grown more
wonderful, to him, and more un-
approachable.
Selma lived alone now, too. Her
erstwhile golden hair was moon
light white She wore great, steel
trimmed spectacles, huge comfy"
shoes, and a straight, black dress
that came clear to the floor. Selma
braided, hooked in, and knitted
rugs, and sold them to the city
folks summers. She kept the house
spick and span and did most of
F'raid's cooking as we'll as her own
Fraid kept cow, and every
morning he took a quart of milk
over to Selma and took home some
rye gems, a loaf of bread, or a bag
of cakes and dOughnuts. Some
times Fraid set the can of milk
down on Selina's pantry shelf,
twirled his cap in his fingers and
tried to say something about how
unworthy he was, but how hard
he'd try to do everything Selma
said if she'd only let him tell her
once-he cared. But more often
Fraid didn't say anything but,
Morning, Selma. Going to have a
spell of weather" or, Morning,
Selma. Nice day" And Selma
would peer down at him from her
superior height and say, Yes,
Fraid, it's a nice day Is that all
you've got to say? Seems though
you get dumber and dumber. How
are your hens laying? How many
pairs of shoes you getting out this
week? Say, we haven't been to the
Grange lately. Recollect how you
used to walk on one side of the
road and on the other? Great for
keeping company with a girl, you
be, Fraid."
Yes, Liny. no." Fraid would be-
gin eagerly. 'Yes-er-that is-no,
Liny," he would stammer And Sc
lima would laugh, pitying, push the
bag of steaming doughnuts into his
hands and tell him to trot along
and see if he could hunt up any
thing to say.
Then Fraid would go home and
eat Selina's doughnuts and think
about her great, capable hands and
that boyish laugh of hers. He al |
ways ended by clubbing himself a
poor, measly mosquito that didn't |
do anything but poster folks. The
nicer the folks, the more he pes
tered.
Lately, more than usual, after |
such rakings-over-coals, Fraid had |
been going to his top bureau draw /
er to take out fiat, square box. |
He would lay il on the table on