Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1929-12-20
CHAPTER discontinued

CHAPTER III-Continued
s.
This one small section OF the house
from the very beginning of their resi-
dence, was Ginger's own. It was diff
cult of approach, for there were no
stairs leading to It, and sole admis
sion was by means of a wabbly old
ladder of six rounds, which, carefully
balanced against the wall at the end
of the upper hall. led to the trapdoor
which opened upward into the attic.
Ginger loved the attic most Of all for
its inaccessibility. The trapdoor,
which swung on hinged lock and had
to be pushed upward with one hand.
was no obstacle, but an added charm
In her eyes. On the attic side of the
door, she had, with her own hands.
driven big staple, added another hook.
and when she went thither on matters
Of any special moment. she locked It
furtively behind her.
The studio was her sacred retreat,
and on this particular Sunday after
noon she had definite motive in re-
tirement, for she sought the guidance
of the Muses.. Ginger had made
find. Eddy Jackson had brought to
the parsonage, as Saturday gift
from his mother, jar of preserved
peaches wrapped In an old page of the
New York World. Helen had crum
pied It lightly into the waste basket,
where the sharp eye of Ginger Ella
had espied it, whence her greedy fin
gers had rescued it. And from It she
learned, to her delight, that the New
York World would pay five dollars
each for the Bright Sayings of Chill
dren.
One OF Ginger's great grievances in
life was the tendency of her sisters
to recall, and repeat, smart sayings
Of her own none-too-remOte childhood.
Such repetition reduced her to abject
and helpless fury. But she noted
that the auditors always laughed, am
pie proof of the presence Of humor-
She cast about in her memory for the
most amusing of these pseudo laugh
producers, and unable to discover
merit by her own Judgment. she hil
upon the one that had produced the
greatest gales Of merriment. Merely
changing names and relationships
from her own and Helens to that of
mother and daughter, she wrote:
"Mrs Lngraham spent an entire
afternoon assisting neighbor to cut
out and fit gown, and when the gar
ment was entirely finished. she wished
to make payment for the time con.
sumed. oh, no. said Mrs. lngraham
pleasantly, 4 shall not take cent
for 1t. did 1t entirely out Of friend
Ship The neighbor was insistent. but
Mrs. Ingraham remained firm, and
would not take the money. At last
she turned to Alice, Mrs Ingraham's
small daughter standing near and
said, Alice. tell me, how can make
your mother take this five dollars
which she has fully earned? Alice
considered moment, and then an.
nounced gravely, You might give It
to me, and she will borrow IT,"
Ginger wrote, corrected, and copied
Then she read it, dls'asteful'y Its
dumb thing" she thought frowningly
But the memory Of unfailing laughter
encouraged her, and she folded 1t
neatly, tucked II into an envelope, and
addressed 1t in firm large hand.
At six o'clock, the girls came to-
gether in the kitchen where they bur-
riedIy set out light supper in order
to be at church again at seven for the
meeting Of the Epworth league. MIR.
Tolliver did not attend this. as 1t was
q service especially calculated to en-
courage and train the younger mem
bers of the congregation in active par
ticipation, and he inclined to the belief
that they took part with more free
dom In his absence.
On Monday afternoon, at one
o'clock, the anxious little family gath
cred in the living room to say goOd-by
to Mr.. Tolliver and Miriam starting
for Chicago Such tremendous issues
were involved In this small journey
Perhaps he would return without the
hated glasses, perhaps the dear tired
eyes would see once more the love
that shone In theirs. Perhaps the
dreaded operation would be declared
Inevitable. Perhaps things would just
drag on and on, month after month. as
they had dragged in the past.
They went out to the veranda,
Miriam leading the way with the light
bag. Her father reached for 1t, strug
gled with her playfully for possession
OF It. She tucked her hand into his
arm, looking back. The girls smiled
at her, she smiled In return. Their
smiles were sad, their father could
not see the smiles. Their young eyes
yearned with pain. Their father
could not see the yearning. He waved
o hand at them In biithe farewell.
"Be good girls. Ellen don't let any