The Richmond palladium and sun-telegram. [volume] (Richmond, Ind.) 1907-1939, 1922-07-26
A LITTLE GIRL
CHAPTER 9

One o'clock in the morning is a
dreary sort of time, and bedroom !
furnished with discarded odds and /
ends of furniture and hopelessly faded /
curtains is dreary sort Of place.
Dora huddled against the register, I
which sent out nothing but family 1
warm air from a heater long since
Ranked for the night. She had wrapped |
blanket around herself over her bath |
robe, but that did not keep her entire !
ly warm. The gas jet, with a queer
crinkled glass shade, made the room
seem even drearier.
An ideal situation to write about
loneliness,
Dora found it so. She went back
through her diary. In her mothers
irregular hand she found such entries:
Jan. 18th. Pan has learned three
new words this week. But she is slow
in talking. She is so bright and SO
like her father hope this isn't bad
sign"
Feb. 9Th. Jim went of today He'll
be hobo now for months-until Peter
is ready for spring blowing. l cried
all day. after he left"
There was no entry until late March.
Jim was back then, for it said He
looks well again. He can not stand
the cold weather, nor Maude's and my
Eagging. He always must be free to
do as he wants
This was the most personal entry.
The other items seemed to be dates
of births, a list of presents a cousin
received when she married and other
trivialities. When Pan was six, the
entries stopped
T1n hol o1u
Pan. But Aunt Maude disapproved Of
what she termed a downright heather
name" and called the child Dora in
stead. And Dora she remained al
ways
Her mother had been a slender little
woman with heavy mass of straight
brown hair which she wore parted in
the center and bound in thick braids
around her head; or else made into a
great knot at the nape of her neck and
held with coarse net She had brown
eyes that seemed much too large for
her slender face-they almost stared
from it-perhaps emphasized by the
pallor Of her skin and the slight prom.
inence of her cheek bones.
She died when Dora was six Inter
mittently they had all lived with Peter
and worked for him Jim for time
tried TO stay at home and be mother
and father too He stuck it out three
winters Then the wanderlust seized
him so strongly that he went off for a
year. He shipped on a cattle boat
got to France, wandered into Italy, re
crossed France, tried to live in Ger
many and fed from the efficient organ
iZation Of that country-his own easy
going, inefficient nature too depressed
by it. Then he got into England where
he made his way from town to town or
a broken down bicycle earning money
by whistling popular songs in pubs anC
music halls.
He came back and settled dowr
again. and whenever he made off it wa:
only for the cold part of the winter
when he tramped the warm southern
states and made his way into Mexico
Naturally, such incomprehensible be
Eavior on his part brought, first disap
prevail then the conclusion that he was
slightly cracked" but harmless. Dors
went through school, graduated and IL
her turn, settled as poor relation and
servant with her uncle and aunt.
One winter Jim had taken her will
him. And that experience had beer
the pleasantest that ever happened Il
her
That winter there was no entry Il
her part of the diary
Father is like the Beloved Vaga
bond, she wrote once after readin!
Locke's novel. If | had been a boy
I might have gone with him often. |
l had been boy. I might have gon
out to earn my living in some othe
way than this. OF course, girls leav