The guardian. [volume] (Boston, Mass.) 1901-1960, 1940-05-11
Concealed
Evidence
By NAN CLIFFORD
Mcclure Syndicate-WNU Service.)


I'm perfectly certain I never could
do that. Besides" brightly, 1--WE
really get awfully good bread at the
delicatessen."
''Nonsense!" snorted Aunt Olivia.
81 brought George up on homemade
bread and Pm positive he won't
thrive on any other kind. l no
ticed," cycling Mary accusingly,
that he looked peaked when he
stopped in to see me last night.
And only three months married."
That's because he's been palling
around with Professor Jenkins next
door," retorted Mary with spirit.
,, George wouldn't look so starved
and neglected if he didn't go wad-
ing through swamps getting his feet
soaked and his face all scratched
up. He's getting absolutely balmy
about botanical specimens"
George needs to eat plenty of
homemade bread" declared Aunt
Olivia with irritating persistency,
quite ignoring Mary's outburst. Get
paper and pencil, my dear. I'll give
you my three hour recipe. It's as
simple as A BIC. One hour to set,
one hour to rise, one hour to bake"
Mary sighed, but gave in. To pre-
serve harmony in the family, she
even promised to bake bread that
very day.
1t was two o'clock when Mary, fol-
lowing Aunt Olivia's instructions,
wrapped the bowl containing the
bread sponge snugly in a blanket
and placed it in the south window to
set.
There was no sun. Clouds threat
ened rain and a depressing chill
was in the air.
| Mary watched the clock anxiously.
At exactly three she prepared to
wrestle with the next problem-that
of making the sponge into loaves.
Strangely, she found the unpleasant
looking lump of dough at the WIN
dow much as she had left it. And
Aunt Olivia had said it would have
risen to the top of the mixing bowl.
Uncertainty, she decided to let it
set awhile longer.
Four O'Clock came and the dough
was unchanged Five o'clock-and
George due shortly
All in a other, her cheeks blaz-
ing and her hands cold, Mary seized
the yellow bowl and made for the
back yard Aunt Olivia should new
er hear of it Neverl AS for George
it was just as well he shouldn't
hear of it either. At Sis she ran
around the corner to the DELEGATES
sen.
Gosh! This is good bread, hon
ey," enthused George that night at
dinner. 81 stopped in to see Aunt
Olivia for minute and she told me
of the treat had coming" He
helped himself to another slice.
Pm glad you like it, darling, j"
she said blithely. You must eat
loads of it. Aunt Olivia says you're
beginning to look peaked"
George grinned sheepishly. "Poor
old Aunt Olivia can't reconcile her
self to my mans estate. l owe her
lot, honey, and I'm glad you let
her boss you a little. And say! are
you some cook or are you some
cook? This bread is better than any
Aunt Olivia ever poked a fist into. 1"
Mary's conscience gave her a
stab. But, in spite of it, she could
not help but relish the keen Joke.
Holy catnip! come herel" shout
ed George the next morning.
Mary rushed in from the kitchen
to find him standing bung-eyed at
the dining room window.
Look; look there!' he cried,
pointing finger excitedly. "a mag
nifcent specimen of fungi right in
our own garden. l must call Pro
lessor at once. He'll be ga-ga over
it. Just yesterday we were discuss
ing the types of fungi found in this
climate. I'm dead sure this is cal
vatia gianica-a type he's never be-
fore discovered around here. 1t must
be fully eighteen inches in diameter,
plant fiobose, nearly sessile, cortex
white and smooth, becoming yellow
ish. See"
But Mary was not listening. Hor-
rifed, she stared out of the window
Yes, that was the very spot. Close
to the syringa bush. A white mass
of something that could be only one
thing had pushed aside the thin lay.
er of soil with which she hastily
covered the contents of the yellow
! bowl. During the night, the tenn
perature had turned considerably
warmer.
Beaming with his glad tidings,
George started for the garden gate
to summon the professor. Mary
clutched his arm.
"Wait-a minute-darling!" try
ing to overcome the paroxysm Of
laughter that convulsed her. That's
not-that's not a toadstool."
"Toadstool!" exploded George in
dignantly. "Of course, it's not a
toadstool. It's very rare speci-
men Of"
Homemade bread" gasped Ma
ry.