The Snowflake herald., 1922-03-17
PART l-continued.

steps, placing his hands behind him.
Listen, here" he said, you think we
got time to read lot o. writin' In
your ole handwritin' that nobody can
read anyhow, and then go to work and
toll and MOL to print 1t on the printin'
press? / guess we got work enough
printin' what we wrote for our news
paper our own selves! My goodness,
Florence, told you this isn't any
child's play!"
Florence appeared to be somewhat
baff1ed. "Well," she said. "Well, you
better put this poem in your ole news
paper II you want to have anyhow one
thing in it that won't make everybody
sick that reads It."
II won't do it!' Herbert said, more
firmly.
"what you take us for?" his partner
added, cOnvincingly.
"All right, them" Florence respond
ed, with apparent decisiveness. "Tll
go back and tell Uncle Joseph and he'll
take this printing press back"
HE will not take it back. l already
did tell him how you keep pOkin'
around tryin' to run everything, and
we just worried our lifeS out tryin' to
keep you away. He said he bet it was
hard job; that's what Uncle Joseph
said. So go on, tell him anything you
want to. You don't get yor ole poem
in our newspaper"
ssNok che ivoH 20 ho two hupdrod
years oldw Henry Rooter added.
Then he had an afterthought. "NOt
unless she pays for It,"
How do you mean?" Herbert asked,
puzzled.
Henry's brow had become corrugat-
ed with no little professional impress
siveness. "You know what we were
talkin' about this morning." he said.
'How the right way to run our news
paper, we ought to have some adver-
tisements in it and everything. Well,
we want money, don't we? We could
put this poem in our newspaper like
an advertisement; that is, If Florence
has got any money, we could"
Herbert frowned. "If her ole poem
isn't too long. guess we could. Here.
let's see it, Florence" And, taking
the sheet of paper in his hand, he
studied the dimensions of the poem,
though without paining himself to read
1t. "Well, guess, maybe we can do
It." he said. "How much ought we to
charge her?"
This question plunged Henry Rooter
into state of calculation, while Flor
ence observed him with yelled anxi-
ETY.; but after time he looked up,
his brow showing continued strain.
do you keep a bank, Florence-for
nickels and dimes and maybe quar-
tiers, you known he inquired
1t was her cousin who impulsively
replied for her. mo, she DON'T" he
said.
mot since / was about seven years
old" Florence added sharply, though
with dignity. do you still make mud,
pies In your back yard, pray?"
"Now, see here!"' Henry objected.
'Try and be lady anyway for a few
minutes, can't you? l got to figure
out how much we got to charge you
for your ole poem, don't I?'
"Well, them" Florence returned,
"you better ask me somep'm about
that, hadn't your
"Well," said Henry Rooter, shave
you got any money at homer
mo, haven't"
slave you got any money with
your"
Eyes, have"
"How much Is it?''
81 won't tell you"
Henry frowned. II guess we ought
to make her, pay about two dollars and
a half" he said, turning to his part
ner.
Herbert felt deferential; 1t seemed
to him that he had formed a business
association with a genius, and for a
moment he was dazzled; then he re-
membered Florence's financial capac-
tiles, always well known to him, and
he looked depressed. Florence. her
self, looked indignant.
1.-TWO collars and a half |" she cried
why, / could buy this whole place
for two dollars and half, printing
press, railing, and all-yes. and you
thrown In, Mister Henry Rooter!"