davidaulloa/AmericanStories huggingface dataset:
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

tos," cried Max Richards. "I'd have sworn he was interested In that cousin of mine-don't you remember, Eloise Duncan, from. Portland, who visited us last year? He took her to places and sent her enough flowers and can dy to endow hospital. She was era zy about him. too-you could see that with your eyes shut One day they were going to motor to the Burning ham Club for the tennis finals when a telegram came from Phil1ips-a wire less, rather. He was out in the mid dle of the Atlantic; just took notion and went. He was back tn three weeks. but Eloise had gone home broken hearted"
 That's nothing" put in Spencer. Mother and Sis were up at Lake Spin abogee, in the White Mountains, two years ago. and there was family there you know them, but it doesn't
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13
By Elsie Endicott

In a moment a thin, yellow-faced Chtnaman. with eyes sunken deep into his wizened face and his hands brown and lean, ambled out from nowhere.
 I've killee quick. bad man! Spyon our king. We killee quick" And he began to make preparations for keep ing his promise.
 Two Chinamen wrestled him into submission, and the king was sum moned to strip him of his clothing. ac- cordine to the ritual of the dead.
 They had taken of his shoes and his coat; then the old king ambled out to watch the rest of the ceremony.
 Grant fought and struggled to re- lease himself In the struggle his watch fell to the stone floor with a crash. His chain lay at his feet, and attached to 1t, dangling in the filth of his cell, lay his mothers last gift, a tiny broken medal,
 The king bent close to the broken watch; then an agonizing screech of horror rent the air. He grasped Grant by the two wrists and lifted him to his
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

siping. Now I'm going to tell you all somethingi"
 There was an immediate hush We'll ington went on:
 T know Jack as well as I know my self. And I've been with him on a great many of his sudden and unex- plained little journeys I've promised secrecy, but there's a reason now why I can tell you little Jack isn't heart less, and neither is he asbestos. He's been misunderstood, that's all, and if girls fall in love with him because he's nice he was always a good spender; we all know that-why, that isn't his fault The truth of the matter is there is a girl and Jacks going to marry her when he finds her He's been in love with her for five years."
 What" they cried in chorus.
 Wellington's knuckles strained over his knees And think-I hope-he's
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

She ordered the car to meet the 4:10 train. Then she decided that she could not wait for the car to bring him to the house; she would go to meet him. A moment later she decided something g else. Instead of bringing him straight to the big house she would take him to the little house. Maxwell, the chauffeur backed the limousine up to the station platform, and left her alone in 1t, while he went to help Tom with his bags.
 At last she saw Tom coming, big and hearty as ever, seemingly, yet older in a way she could not understand. He was tired. That was it, of course. He could not be sick. Why, he had never been sick day in his life.
 She leaned forward from her. seat and fairly pulled him into the limou- sine. "Oh, Tom!"
 Well, Bessie! I'm glad to get back to you.''
 Not so glad as I am to have you You couldn't be-"
 She cuddled against the arm he laid about her, and they looked at each
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13
By Abner Anthony

give her daughter.
 Then came stormy January day. Geraldine had played the night before and had given lessons for six hours She was very tired as her last pupil left the studio. and, dropping down upon the piano bench she crumpled forward upon the keys with pas sionate feeling that she must cry or die.
 Suddenly hand fell on her shoul- der and she heard a voice-"Jerry, it
 said, speaking the pet name Blanche had given her. She started upright and looked into Dan OShay's face.
 She looked at him, slim, dark, but unquestionably conventional in his blue tailored suit, less picturesque, perhaps. but a man to win regard anywhere. Her smile came swiftly You needn't have waited" she said You corralled my heart"
 She did not finish the sentence.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13
The Unfinishe d Sentence

He's the finest rider in Chase county and the kindest to horse."
 There was swirl of dust and a gleam of yellow in the distance. Blanche looked at it from under her hand. "Dan's here," she remarked.
 The yellow horse slid yard in the sand as O'Shay brought him to a stop. Geraldine saw a dark, slender man in khaki whose eyes and teeth flashed as he swept off his sombrero. She thought he was the most interesting person she had ever seen.
 Her interest in him grew as the morning progressed. His ways with the horses astonished her. He was at once so firm. so kind. so determined. And his riding was unexcelled. The pinto pony bucked, sidestepped, craw- fshed, stood up and lay down, but stayed in the saddle. At last he rode the conquered animal close to her.
 Going to be fine under saddle" he
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

retired. asked: "Did you come to an understanding, you and Dan?"
 Geraldine hid her face in the hol- low of her arm. "No. And we never shall. He doesn't like me that much. I've found out.'
 You can't tell about Dan," Blanche said. He doesn't wear his heart on his sleeve. I happen to know that he does like you that much. He will, I'm sure, before you go."
 But he did. not speak And that bright day when she parted with him at the station and had the last look at him, standing sombrero in hand be- side yellow Cass, she felt that he had let her go out of his life forever. It was because he had not cared. Oh, the pity of it, that she should care so much.
 Blanche wrote about him-little little things that did not mean much. Once she said: T can't understand
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13
The End of the Lane

land. He might not be home fin months and he did not write often. AS a matter Of fact, he had very little to say to her that she did not already know.
 She had begun being lonely about the time Tom began to get rich ie was so very busy with money after that that they only met occasionally. And little Tom had died. He was her only child. She had tried to read and take up club work and music. but none of these occupations had succeed ed in arousing deep interest in her. She was essentially a housekeeping. home-maling woman. and with money "a great deal of money-one is ex- pected to be something else. Wealth had taken Hester Arrfck's chosen work out of her hands and left her idle and helpless.
 She thought as she sat there that she would be perfectly happy to be back again in the little house where she and Tom had begun to live their lives together. To cook, to mend. to dust-she had not forgotten these
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

feet, waving aside the servants.
 "Leetle Grant, leetIe Grant. Capt. Matthew's leetle boy" the old China man was lowing now apologetically.
 Me showee you medal-other part of yours,' and he reached into his long silk pocket and withdrew a broken medal which matched exactly the half which Grant had held in his keeping all these years
 Nee Fang Tsu. me Fang 1'su. mee savee your mamma on sinkin' ship. She givee me this medal"
 Grant Mathew was released at once. He was in a daze as he walked out of the den only to greet his staff of po- Hcemen coming back to search for him.
 But duty was religion to Grant and he succeeded in wiping out the opium den. He took Fang back home with him a few days later, and now on ev- cry walk past the chiefs room you can get the savory odor of chop suey.. stirred, mixed and served by Hon. Fang Tsu, the police chiefs cook.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

get there. A tramp ship is the hard- est thing in the world to find
 And then Jacks aunt-Mrs. Hay don-thought it was time to help him I happened to know she talked his fa- ther over and did some Investigating on her own responsibility. It's cost. her lot. She's just got back from Hartford today and"
 Wellington stopped.
 That's where Jack went tonight, isn't ft?' asked Morley
 Yes She brought Mary Gray home with her but Jack didn't know it when he left here" Wellington reach ed for his dead cigarette when the phone rang He took it up instead
 He's with her now, he said in a few minutes hanging up the receiver, And. fellows, if you could hear him yog. wouldn't say he was asbestos. Love's got him scorched brown
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

effect strike him. Why, Bessie, this looks exactly like the old house didI"
 Tt is just the same, as near as could remember it. I lost the picture we had
 That one?" He drew it from an in ner pocket
 "Oh, Tom! You had it all the time" Tears came to her eyes. Do you like it. Tom? I built it with my own mon ey. 1 had to have 1t. T."
 |He put his arm around her and drew her close. She felt his heart beating hard and fast. 'Hessie," he said. this gives mo courage to tell you what I've been dreading to do for six months. I went to Alberta to work out a plan-and the plan failed. Bessie, wife, could you be content to make something more than playhouse out of this-to make home out of it? For, oh, my dear, I'm afraid that it is all the home that's left to us now"
 He bowed his head on her shoulder and she put, her arms around him. And the little house protected them both.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13
By Phil Moore

found her tonight. Poor Jack!"
 But who is she?" cried Max
 Mary Grayi"
 Mary Gray! The little girl whose father kept the old antique shop in Hartford-the one his father stormed so much about when Jack told him about herr"
 NYes, that's the one. And when she heard of it she said she wasn't going to spoil Jacks life-so she slipped away when her father died and went to an old uncle-a trader-a roamer, who doesn't call any port home It's the Esqutmaux in Greenland for a few months, and then to Korea, Cape Town for awhile and the Colonies and ther to Argentine. She couldn't have hid den better in a mountain cave than when she went with him. Jacks fol- lowed up every clue, only to find they'd gone 2 week or two before he'd
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

it. I was certain he loved you, and yet I must have been mistaken, of course. else he would never have let you go that way
 The fall wore into winter. Geraldine worked harder than she had ever done before She wished not to have an idle moment in which to think or grieve. One night as he walked home with her after concert, at which she had played particularly well. Fred eric Casey asked her to marry him. She had been expecting it, and six months before she had thought she could care enough to be his wife. But now 1t seemed so impossible that she shuddered. She told her mother that she had refused him and Mrs. Corbin was fun of rage
 You foolI With all his moneyi You need never lift your hand again. Think what he'd do for C1yde-and me"
 It seemed that she could never for
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

of the deadly opium drug. some gcs- tculating wildly and uttering weird kinds of guttura1 noises in protest.
 The wagons drove off, Grant was missing. Somewhere during the ex- excitement of the raid the Chinamen had made off with him. The police. busy with their wards, did not miss his presence until they were back at the station house,
 Meanwhole Grant Mathew was lin gering between life and death. He re- membered the blow, after that he could remember no more. He opened his eyes now, rubbed them as if to blot out the frightful sights that greeted him and turned on his side.
 His wrists were bound in iron chains and there was a heavy spiked collar about his throat, chaining him to a stone wall. He was in cell. He looked up, and there above him, point ing down as though aiming his very temples, were multitude of sharp pointed knives. He shuddered. He was facing death.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

VT was. the last-the last dinner at
 the club before Morley's mar A riase. There had been g high old time, lot of food-a lot of wine Out not too muoh)-and some sing ing. But things quieted down early and about 8 half dozen had taken their leave.
 Then Jack Phillips shook Morley's hand long and warmly. laid a brother ly hand on his shoulder and wished him all the happiness in the world. You're 6 lucky old dog. Morley" he said half sadly as he turned away. "1 don't see why 1t should be you though. you old pirate. Here's the rest of us foundering over our heads and no land in eight"
 ~You to talk that way" cried Morley. You can't pull that any more. old pnsn. I'm afraid. We know yout"
 Phillips laughed a bit bitterly.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

Grant Mathew had been in the em- ploye of the government ever since the second year of his arrival in the states He was an American by pa rentage, though fate endowed his birthplace to be on the rolling ocean within the Australian shore. Old Capt Mathew was a famous coast character. Every one knew him. For thirty-odd years his ship piled between Frisco and Australia and each trip made him more and more famous. He had been given that superb trait of making friends easily. He knew ev- cry one, every one knew him, and ev- cry one loved him. He was hailed all ways as the "good old Cap Mat"
 They had been sh1pwrecked once. That was the once when Cap. Mat had seen his last Pacific trip. That was the one that had left Grant almost an orphan. His good mother had been saved by Fang Tsu, his fathers cher ished cook on the steamship Congolia But the shock had left its scar on her fra1l constitution and soon she joined
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13
It Had Him Scorche ed Brown

 matter-and the youngest girS tear ing beauty, was supposed to be en- engaged to Phillips. The chances are that she was just willing to be. for don't think the man has it in him to do a dishonorable thing-he's just at tentive and rather overdoes the gal lant chevalier act, that's all, and the girls get wrong idea Then the first thing anybody knew he had hiked of on that trip to Japan and the Philip pines, you remember. The family had a fit"
 ~But just wait till I tell you about the" began Randolph, When little Chuck Wellington. sitting quietly in a big arm chair. sizes too big for him. leaned forward and laid his cig- arette on a tray. Look here, fellows, you're all good friends of Jacks know 1t, but an outsider would never guess it from the way you are Eos-
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

remarked, smoothing the sweating neck You can ride him yourself in a week, Miss Corbin.'
 You must teach her, Dan," Blanche said
 And so 1t came about that Dan O'Shay taught Geraldine to ride. He was patient teacher, but at last she rewarded him by being able to take a ten-mt1e gal1op in excellent style.
 One day he took her over to see his ranch A Mexican woman kept the house. 'Manuela has been with me six years." he said. That's her hus- band over there by the ochelee fence They're faithful and as honest as you could expect Mexicans to be-"
 The ranch was not so big as the Barker's, but 1t was good of its kind. Dan showed Geraldine everything and told her all his plans-
 That night Blanche, sitting on the edge of the bed after Geraldine had
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

she alighted at the corrugated iron station and found Blanche waiting for her in yellow blackboard. drawn by a pair of pinto ponies. Blanche had grown stout and brown, but she look ed so happy that Geraldine envted her wistfully.
 The great ranch, with its miles of barbed wire, its windmills and squat adobe buildings astonished the north ern girl. But she settled into it's ways with amazing adaptability. Within three days she began to love ham mocks. heat. corn pone. sand and horses.
 One morning Blanche took her out to the corral. @ high board enclosure, where 8 tangle of ponies stood blink ing drowstly in the sun. Dan O'Shay is coming to break 6 couple of them,' p she said T thought you'd like to look on, hate the regular broncho bust ing, but Dan doesn't do 1t that way.
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

@AR oil, like the melancholy hoot
 of the screech owl, could be
 heard a weird strain of music. The sound foated on the air like some haunted spirit searching an abode. Then deeper, deeper, the short stac- cato notes would blend themselves with the high screeching of barbaric mslody. It was weird, fantastic. The Chinamen of Frisco were having an other celebration.
 Grant Mathew listened moro close ly. In a few moments there was 8 savage chant, like that of a myriad of wild birds each blowing its peculiar sounds into the twilight of a jungle forest voices-that was it. The Chlnamen were singing.
 Stea1thily Grant crept up the side all ley of the narrow row where the vari- colored huts lay huddled together in such close proximity it was little won der they held such contempt for each other. Here the Chinamen knew not even the meaning of that word, they were a solid body. holding to the one
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

"Good-by, fellows Sorry to leave, but promised Aunt Laura to drop in tonight She's just got home" He was gone
 The men smoked under the low am Der lights and no one spoke for min ute. The old crowd had hung togeth- CT too many years to feel the necessi- ty of speech. particularly just now when every one knows exactly what was in every one else's mind.
 "The longer I know him the more he puzzles me-" finally said the host. This brought Q valley of remarks.
 He could have anybody for the ask ingi"
 Most attractive fellow ever knewi"
 ''No hearti"
 That's a mistake-its asbestos. that's all. Fire proof"
 -rhats right. Charley. # Is asbes-
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

n AT RS. ARRICK stepping out oi MI her limousine was quite an
 other creature from the Mrs. Arrick who now tn her own room fevertsh1y tumbled drawers and boxes in an eager hunt for something she wanted very much T know l kept it,, she said to herself. "I know I must have kept 1t. I'd never part with that
 Still that little four-inch quare of faded photograph of the house where she had lived when she was first mar rfed and before Tom got so wonderful ly rich was not to be found.
 She gave up searching, feeling lit tie tired. In a deep chair at the win dow that looked out on the vast lawn that encirc1ed the great house she fell into quiet thought. She was very lonely. Her neighbors were no richer, but much more fashionable than her self, who did not care more for her than she cared for them. And she could not call up a servant just to talk to- AS for Tom, her husband, he was in Saskatchewan buying up wheat
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

A SUMMER of teaching. accom-
 A panytng and playing the great & @ Methodist church organ had wearied Geraldine to the point of col lapse She was in bed that autumn day, crying over the enga agements she had been obliged to cancel, when Blanche Barker's letter came. The letter contained an invitation for her to visit Blanche and enclosed within 1t was a round trip ticket from New York to Swift City, Texas, by rail.
 Geraldine went It was a wonder full experience. that journey south. Day after day she sat at the car window, gazing at the changeful seen cry. Before she reached Swift City little color had come into her cheeks, and she began to feel that laid flat in a real bed she could sleep like a baby.
 Swift City was no city at all. nor as yet even the promise of one, but it meant destination to Geraldine when
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

things: they were second nature to her. She longed to handle a broom or skillet. She was still so strong. though so, purpose1ess.
 If only she could have been able to find that little photograph! lit would have been something. The house had burned down soon after they left it, but she carried every detail of 1t in her mind. Why, if she were a car penter she could, put 1t together stick for sticki Or she could help 8 car penter to do it!
 "I'd like to see if I could reproduce that little house," she thought "It wouldn't cost much-$2.eoe or $3,o00. I've twice that sum at my command. I'm sure MT. Pageley could help me"
 A moment later she was speaking to the architect over the phone.
 The little house grew apace. MT. Pageley seemed to know by some rare intuition just what she wanted. She grew younger each day, for she was living back in her young wtfehood. She had never been so happy in all
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

her life since.
 When at last the house was finished she felt that she could not stop there. She went to the city and passed q week in the hottest weather, of which she was quite unconscious, hunting through the shops. She bought little white iron bedsteads, mating, scrim, cretonne, plain mission furniture, things that her own house was too grand for.
 When it was in order she came away and closed the door with feeling of satisfaction. It just suited her. Per haps it was the first thing, besides Tom, that had ever suited her in all her life. She planned to go there ev- cry day for a little while. Perhaps sometimes she and Tom could have the tea there alone together. If he liked 1t as we'll as she did, they would be able to get a great deal of comfort out of it
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

It was one rich, cool autumn morn ing that she received Toms telegram. He was coming home that afternoon
The Bridgeport times and evening farmer., 1922-03-13

RS. ARRICK stepping out of
 her limousine was quite an other creature from the
Draugas. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1917-current, 1922-05-27
INORGANIC PLENAI NUS
TEBINA PRANCIJA.
Geri konferencijos rezultatai
abejotini.

PARYzIUS, geg. q. - Sc
ka tarptaut. bankininkQ kon-
ferencija. Amerikos finansi-
stas Morganas, kaip pranes-
ia, veikiai paduosias reko-
mendavimq sumazinti Vokie-
tijos kontribucijos suma II
gauti pazad6jimq, idant san
tarv6 jokiu budu nesibrlautQ
Vokietijon.
Tas praneSimas taip daug
sukirSino Prancijos vyriausy-
b6s narius, kad jie sprendzla
busiq geriausiu daiktu suspen
duoti karo skolu Suv. Valstl-
JOINS diskusijas, kaip ilgal ne
paaiSk6s visa finansisto Nor
gano id6ja apie Vokietijos
kontribucija. ~
Sulaikoma finansine komisija
Kuomet atpildymo komlsl,
ia su bankininkq komisija su,
sirinkime nutare savo pose,
dzius tureti slaptus, Prancl,
jos vyriausybe staiga nutare
palaukti su siuntimu ! S. Val.
stijas finansines komslJoS
patvarkyti skolas.
Suprantamas daiktas, kao
tas yra sarySSyje su banklnln.
kp konferencija. Prancija Ia
bal atsargi. il bijosi, kad JOS
Draugas. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1917-current, 1922-05-27
IS EUCHARISTINIO KON-
GRESO ROMOJE.

ROMA, geg. -. - Iva
kar SventaSis TGvas Plus NJ
Sv. Petro Bazilikoj tureJo
pontifikale SumQ. PamaIdQ
Iaiku bazihkoj buvo mazlauSla
10000 zmoniQ, daugiauSia Is
viS.I paSaulio daIiQ maIdinln-
ku, klwip Gia Sukcliavo Eucha-
ristijoS KongrcSan, pra<id@-
jusian pcrcit2 trc@iadicni.
Del @cneralio dorbini"kQ
strciko, kur< pakilo del ivy
ku<iu vicnoi micsto daily riau-
Siu CVakar Streikas jau paSi-
baigG). visoj Romoj gcguzeS
- dicnQ suSisickimaS huvo
pcrtrauktas. ZmondmS rrlSl-
Gio pGSticmS iStoIi citi i Sv.
Pctro bazilikQ.
Del to daugcliS zmonlQ Sa-
vo makvynis victaS turtjo ap-