The Appeal. [volume] (Saint Paul, Minn. ;) 1889-19??, 1923-10-13
!. HERSELF
BY MYRA ALICE L. DAVIES
90 1923. by Mcclure Newspaper Syndicate

THERE was not girl in Broxton
- who, apparently, was more alone
than Jane Daniels. She lived alone in
one gray little hotel room-a country
hotel room; she worked in Kent's gen.
eral merchandise store-the only one
In the sleepy, aloof old village-at the
hardware counter, and, whenever she
went anywhere, she always went alone.
Nobody, evidently, was interested
enough to find out If any sort of party
invitation would be accepted by the
little woman with the wan face and
pale hair and eyes. That was partly
habit, too, and habit that stuck till
the night of the big grange social-pub-
lie invited-when, in the first place, the
frantic chairman Of the flower com.
mitee ran plumb into Jane as she came
from the hardware department.
The grange had not for nothing put
Mrs. Leonard Kent on that flower com.
mittee. Determination had Mrs. Leon
ard, and backbone. If every member
of the committee had failed her at five
were still fifteen begonias to be collect
ed from the neighbors, and a bank of
white daisies and ferns to be added to
conceal the old stove, yet there was
some way out. That was Mrs. Leonard
Kent, wife of the leading citizen, moth
er Of Thomas, Jr., just home from col
lege.
To tell the truth, Mrs. Kent didn't
even look at Jane. She merely sensed
the fact that human being was in
front of her, and that the decorations
for the hall were not. It was the mat
ter of two minutes to explain the situa-
ton to Jane.
I'D love to help" trembled the
sweet, surprised voice. 'I'll promise to
have every begonia there, and the bank
of daisies made. Some of the school
children will help, I know, and"
Then Mrs. Kent did see that this was
the quiet little lady in her husbands
store, who always looked as if she
didn't know which way to turn. "Oh,"
said Mrs. Leonard, grimly, "probably I
can get somebody else. Capable hands
are quite necessary, you know. Maybe
my son, after he's through talking with
his father. You needn't bother"
But Jane Daniels was already on
her way to borrow the begonias, her
heart singing song of being needed it
had not sung since her father was liv-
ing and she made his bread and mend
ed his socks.
Jane beamed so gloriously that hard
ly begonia-lender that late June af-
ternoon recognized her as the, sedate,
black-frocked miss who sat in the back
seat at church, and certainly not as the
faint-hearted little lady whose hands
always trembled for fear she hadn't
counted out the right number of screws
at the store.
Jane Daniels put daisy in her hair
that evening, and a soft white collar
on her black wolfe.
1t was a beautiful social, everybody
sociable, glad to see everybody else
everybody asking why there weren't
more Of those parties. Games? Old
fashioned, jolly games. And Jane Dan
iels played at every one, cheeks flushed,
hair flying, eyes shining.
It was during the "hands for part
ners' game, preceding the supper that
the next big thing happened. All the
girls stood behind heavy green cur
tain, with holes in it. Through each
small hole protruded one feminine
hand. The boys were to choose their
partners from the hands. It seemed
to have been Tom Kent's idea, and, Of
course, young Kent was to lead the
grand march. Popular first and always
was he. His choice came first. He
made it with his customary aristocratic
bearing, but with the same good taste
in evidence that always made every
mothers daughter in Broxton hope
But there!
1t was an aweSOme moment, while
the fate of the leaders, partner hung
in the balance. Who would lead the
grand march with, Thomas, Jr., and
eat strawberry ice cream and four
kinds of cake-and-?
With bow of triumph Kent made
his choice of hand, and the big hall
thrilled during the breathless second
while the owner of the fairest hand in
town tiptoed quietly out from behind
the screening curtain. Oh, it was
James own night, all right. For Jane
it was who stood beside young Tom.
Jane so surprised, so uplifted, so glad,
she hardly heard the mans eager whis-
per.
II like you, Jane Daniels, because
you don't shout out to folks to notice
you. You're just yourself, and if folks
don't see you so much the worse for
them. I watched you in dads store
today for one solid hour. I was up in
the Office. The way your hands want
ed to help folks and didn't dare got me.
We're going to be great friends, you
and I, Jane Daniels, if you'll let u.s."
Now there certainly isn't a girl in
Broxton happier or more cared about
than Jane Daniels. Mrs. Leonard Kent
admits ungrudgingly that she's a dar-
ling.
1T was putting those field daisies
round our hall the night Of the grange
social that got us acquainted" she
smiles. 'You see, asked Jane to help.
She always seemed to me such an ex-
quisite pearl of a girl"
And Broxton warmly agreed.
That's Often the Trouble.