The Skyland post. [volume] (West Jefferson, N.C.) 193?-1988, 1942-05-28

Brown hair and eyes, mighty
pretty, but-what was especially
astonishing in this rustic and old
fashioned frame-entirely mod
ern.
Her hair was nicely dressed, in
the latest style. Her skirt was
SHORTCUT not too short. Her
stockings were the correct shade.
Evidently, there were radios and
movies within reach of Ironburg.
He hoped not!
Jerry gasped. Angela Slim?
"Can I help you with that bag?'
She laughed. "Nope." Not any
verbal "Thank you" Easily she
flung the sack into the cage, went
around the counter and confront
ed him. Mighty pretty.
my names Glidden."
She let the introduction pass
! without acknowledgement. Nor
did she tell him who she was. In
fact, she said nothing.
Those little success books didn't
cover such emergencies as the
present. I'm here on a sort of
vacation" Jerry explained, land
I thought this store would be a
good place to get a line on the
best hotel"
"The best? There's only one
and it's got exactly six bedrooms
without bath" She pointed out
of the window to a detected hos
telry across the way, fallen into
permanent melancholia. "You
couldn't have missed it."
All very fine, but not business.
He therefore said: "Thank you
Miss SLIM"
She shot him a quick glance
no more.
II haven't often heard that
name," he persisted.
"No?"
''It doesn't suit you"
Nothing does. I'm hard to
please"
She turned her back abruptly.
She went into the cage, emptied
the sack of it's scanty contents and
began to sort letters.
She seemed to have forgotten,
not him especially, but everything
except this occupation. Yet rude
ness had no part in her manner;
her action simply announced that,
there being work to do, it must
be done.
Glidden had no recourse save
go; after all, what you couldn't
find out about a villages inhabi-
tants at that villages hotel must
be scarcely worth the seeking.
So, though he felt somewhat
like a defeated candidate on the
day after election, he picked up
his suitcase and left. AS however,
he climbed the hotel steps, the
charm of that store girl pulled
him around.
Another person on the point of
entering the store, stood looking
at him in turn.
The sun, being opposite to
where it had risen, bathed in
level, blood-red rays a squat, sol
i'd, large boned and big muscled
woman of middle age and long
acquaintance with toll.
Sunbonnet, mother hubbard,
brogans-no urban modernity a.
bout her, at all events. The sun
bonnet shaded her broad face, but
among its shadows played two
restless greenish flames: her eys.
The woman knocked out a corn
cob pipe against pillar of the
store porch. Could she be that
girls mother? Old enough
"I'm a fool" Jerry concluded.
''The 'phonebook gave two
names. This older ones the post
mistress, of course. It's queer
how nobody gets a name that fits
in this world. The peach is An
gela Slim for sure, and here's
her boss, Rose Walker"
He tried to stroll nonchalantly
into the darkened hotel office
as nonchalantly hire a room that
overlooked the post office - he
meant the turnpike.
"And who's your friend Sun
bonnet Sue glowering at you
from the store steps?" he inquired,
merely by way of making talk.
The proprietor craned a cross
Matched neck. ooh, that there?"
he mumbled, pulling a dropped
mustache that was white where
it wasn't stained by tobacco juice.
"That there's Miss Angela
SLIM"
WHAT? That one?"
OF was a relief to find that the
pretty girl hadn't the ugly name.
Host Hassler of the local hotel
smiled knowingly.
you're vonderin' about the or