Every evening, Wilmington daily commercial., 1922-11-02
A WEATHER BREEDER,
A Short Story.
BY II. IRVING KING.
Copyright. 1922. by Mcclure Newspaper
Syndicats-A


altogether too smoothly-there was
not ripple on the surface, not a
shadow in the depths. They We're
deeply enamored of each other, her
parents were pleased with the match,
Philip had a good position, money of
his own and expectations from his
great aunt, an aged spinster, one
Catherine Geoghan. In short. the con-
ditions were abnormal,
Any one at all weatherwise will
tell you that there are sometimes days
SO superlauvely beautiful that a severe
storm may be looked for in the near
future. Such days are called weather.
breeders. One day Philip, who was
calling upon Helen-he spent good
share of his time now a. that occupa-
uon--said suddenly: There. for
got to write to Aunt Kate today. This
WAS my day for writing her; but my
head Is so full of you that l forget
everything else, you dear grill"
Sit right down there at my desk
and write her now replied Helen.
III play you some of that Harrigan
and Hart music you like so well while
you write.'
A word about this rich Aunt Kate.
a part of her time she spent on
farm she owned In New Hampshire
and part of her time in New York.
Except that she was a rather eccentric
body this was about all :hat Philip
had told concerning her. Kate had
never seen her; but they were to
visit her on their wedding tour.
Helen seated herself al the piano
and began those airs once SO popular
presently breaking into song with
Love, bring out your orange bios
SONS put on your snow white Veil"
from "Cordelias Aspirations" There
was. in the living room one of those
. dinky little writing desks which wom-
en- adore and men eXecrate. Philip
seated himself at it and wrote. He
had completed his letter. put it in the
envelope, sealed it and directed II
when, so awkward was he in handling
lielen's foolish little ivory-handlcd
pen, great glob of ink dropped on
the face of the envelope. He tore off
the ruined envelope. crumpled II up
and threw it into the berlhhoned little
waste basket by the side of the desk.
substituted anotherA envelope. direct
ed 1t. pressed 1t on the blottlng pad,
sealed the letter and put Il in his
pocket.
There that's done. Now come and
talk To me-" he said. II was late
when Philip left. How deeolate the
living room looked to Helen after his
departure.
Dear Philip" she sighed Then
her eye caught the discarded envelope
she had happened TO be looking when
he threw II away--and she picked IL
out OF the basket and sTnoothed IL out.
And this il what met her eyes; Miss
Fife La Tour" with the addition OF Il
New York address.
Fife La Tour. II that name did not
suggest the footlights then nothing
did. And he had said ne was writing
u his aunt, Out Of the sha dows
which the piano lamp left lurking in
the room the green-eyed monster
crawled and seized upon Helen. Sht
crept up 10 her room ike a wounded
dove with a broken wing.
During a wakeful night and th'
dreary morning hours that followed
Helen did a lot OF thinking. her moot
alternating between fearful despai
and righteous Indignation.
Helen took q resolution. She in
formed her mother-her father wa
hway on a business trip that sh
was going 10 New York. She packe
a travelling bag. put her months al
lowance in her purse and departed
Arriving in the Sg city. she took
taxi and drove 10 the address OF Mis-
Fife La Tour from whom she pro
posed 10 wrest the truth. The cave c
the siren proved 20 be an old-fashion
ed dwelling stranded in that part of tn
metropolis once known as Chelse
Village. a neat housema!d admitte
her when she frigidly demanded I
see Miss La Tour.
II was an d-faehioned parlor int
which she was shown. with tides
on the chairs, ghastly enlarged crayo,
portraits" on the walls and gilt bask
g; OF wax fruit under q glass on tn
handicapped table.
These chorus girle do get up tn
respectable in q thorough manner.
thought Helen. II suppose there wi
be respectfully got up guardian I
match the parlor.
There was considerable della
and then entered. 20 her, the most as
tonishing person upon whom she ha
ever set eyes. Il was "a little. bird
Ike old woman, dressed in man
cOlors. be-founced and be-furbelowet
From an obvious wig yellow curl
hung down 10 her shoulders, and keel
merry old eyes looked out over heavil
rouged cheeks from either side Of
very beak OF a nose
Helen half expected her 20 2
pecking at the wax cherries under In
glass globe on the center table. Ssh
came In with a motion half flying, ha
dancing; her feet, clad in the tighte.
of white slippers, seemed scarcely !
touch the floor.
Il beg pardon" said Helen startin
up. u wished 10 see Miss La Tour"
We'll. my dear, you see her-a
that's left Of her. anyway. There wa
a time when people paid big none
for seats to see Fife La Tour. 81
that was years and years ago. Or
can't be young forever. though ! 4
pretty wei! dl H. uOn you tnlnk, n
dear?"
DO you know" stammered II
bewildered Helen. "a young ma
named Philip Holt?"
Know him." cried the old lad
Why, he's my nevvy,"
'You-you can't-be Aunt Kate
gasped Helen.
And why not, pray? And who
might you he. you little ducky?"
-. -.