The guardian. [volume] (Boston, Mass.) 1901-1960, 1939-08-26
SHORT
STORY

board you for August. When will
| you arrive?' Alice Goodnough."
Alice Goodnough hung up the re-
ceiver and rushed through the din
ing room with its long table set
for dinner.
Mary, you'd better let the dishes
go until noon, and run upstairs and
tidy up the southwest chamber. A
man is coming sometime soon, and
I'm going to put him there. You'll
have to run the vacuum over the
floor and change the bed and the
dresser scarves, and-well, you'll
see what needs to be done"
Mary, plump, good-natured and
seventeen, took the stairs two at
time. Ladies, we're going to have
a real herman boarder here"
Mary's voice was not very pene-
trating, so it must have been the
nature of the news which caused
three bedroom doors to spring open
and three fair maids to dash out,
in various stages of undress, to
accost Mary.
'When's he coming?"
''How old is he?"
''What does he look like?"
Search me. All l know is that
he's coming and is going to have
this room"
"Whee-e-e!" Above the noise of
! the girls dancing around, the door
knob of the corner room was heard
to turn. But when Mr.. Alexander
Stone thrust his skull-capped head
out of the door to enquire gently,
did you call, Mary?" Mary, alone
in the hall, was demurely taking
sheets from the linen closet.
mo, Mr.. Stone, l did not"
ooh, well. 1t was probably some
psychic sensation that made me
think So"
With that, Mr.. Stone retired to
his room, to continue his work on
his new book, "The Psychology of
the Farmer and His Family"
Downstairs, the telephone rang
again. Another telegram. will
arrive at Heath's Corners 2:42 p.
M, Aug. 2. I. R. Howard"
Miss Goodnough hung up the re-
ceiver with a sigh of relief. Her
house would be full and, thank
goodness, this one was man.
How she did hate these young
women who glanced everything
over cynically and refused to be
surprised at anything! And the
older ones! They were worse-al-
ways hanging around the kitchen
volunteering grandmother recipe
for sour milk doughnuts, or Aunt
Sues never-failing recipe for dump
lings. But man-gosh, that was
good!
The next noon, as she served the
mashed potato and creamed dried
beef, she officially announced the
coming of l. R. Howard. Mr.. Stone
hoped that he would be psychically
inclined. Miss Pratt wanted to
know what time he would ar
rive She might take him for
walk and show him the beauties of
the country. The three young MEM
bers of the company showed no in
terest in hearing that he would be
at Willowdale Farm on the bus
which came about that afternoon.
But Jerry, the farm manager, do
, ing odd jobs around the piazza, was
not the only eXpectant one when the
bus came in. In the hollow down
by the brook could be seen Miss
Eva Knapp in bright red bathing
/ suit. Not, as she remarked that
night, that she would have soiled
her new bathing suit in that dirty
! brook, but she thought it better that
Mr.. Howard should realize that, if
he cared to go swimming in the pond
a mile away, he might have COM
pany.
In the summer house, shaded by
the redolent vines, sat Geraldine
Fitzhugh, rocking gently in the
wicker chair and holding Marjorie
Allen, infant daughter of the neigh
bors half a mile to the east. Geral-
dine just loved children and, be-
sides, Boston artist had once told
her that she would make a beauti-
| full Madonna.
! In the tennis court to the left was
Marta Waldo, trim and sleek from
her boyish bob 10 her white tennis
| shoes.
The bus was heard coming up the
hill in low. Jerry allowed himself
the luxury of thinking of fishing
trips on rainy afternoons and sone-
one to knock around with on Sum
days in his new $500 car, {. o. b.,
Detroit. Eva walked slowly along
the bank of the brook looking for
the best place to go in. Geraldine
sang a lullaby sweetly to the baby.
Marta began to play her best, utterly
confounding poor Mary.
The bus stopped. Three pairs of
eyes received their daily dozen at
the corners. They knew from expe-
rience that the passenger would
have to disentangle himself from
anything from canary seed to
cream separator. Things with which
the driver was wont to fill his small
car.
A gray suede shoe and trim.
looking ankle came cautiously out
upon the running board. It was