The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1944-08-11


he loved her. Beyond his specula-
ton on how she would receive the
news, he had a reluctance about
telling her.
Yet he didn't see what else he
could do. With sigh, he went into
the house.
Mrs. Wrinkle was already behind
her half Of the newspaper in the
breakfast nook, which was all the
dining room their small house pos
sessed. Mr.. Wrinkle, In his mind,
could look right through the paper
and see her, a well-alled-out lady OF
exactly his own age. To a person
seeing her for the first time, she
appeared dainty in spite Of her
plumpness, quite feminine, and Of
an eminently good nature. 1t was
shock, upon second glance, to
notice the way her lips pressed
themselves together and the per-
petual frown that creased the other
wise smooth pink skin between her
blue eyes.
Amy paid no attention as Mr..
Wrinkle carefully stepped over Pc
nelope, the third member of the
family.
Their sad-eyed spaniel was set
tied on the floor with her black muz-
zle resting on her paws. At eight,
Penelope in her dog world was APP
proximately Mr.. Wrinkles compara-
tive age in the human world. She
was as amiable and mild as Mr..
Wrinkle himself. Never having been
allowed husband, she had a rather
droopy disposition. Now, in her mid
die age, she had given up hope and
no longer pretended to any interest
at the sight Of a male, but simply
shifted loftily or ignored the meet
ing altogether.
Penelope, Mr.. Wrinkle thought,
was no more prepared for the large,
adventurous and dangerous things
Of life, such as war, than he.
He sat heavily In his place in the
breakfast nook. From behind her
paper, Mrs. Wrinkle demanded,
Anything for me?"
| "No-o," answered Mr.. Wrinkle.
At his drawing out Of the word,
Mrs. Wrinkle put her paper aside and
looked at her husband. She didn't
see what he had received, for he
held it below the table. But from
the look Of Mr.. Wrinkle and the tone
of his voice, she knew at once.
Mrs. Wrinkle was the first to speak
again. Her frown deepened and her
lips were tight when she stated dis
approvingly. "Wilbert. your notice
has come"
Silently, Mr.. Wrinkle handed over
the notice to her.
Mrs. Wrinkle took 1t in at single
| glance. Her face went white. Her
frown disappeared and her mouth
softened. She looked bewildered, as
If props had been knocked out from
under her and she had no solid
ground to stand on. She said breath
lessly, as II caught off guard,
you're going to war;"
Mr.. Wrinkle cleared his throat so
as to be sure he could control his
own voice, trying it out this way
without first CHANGING how it might
sound. ''It MEANS" he explained,
"Tm just being passed on to the
Army doctors"
you're going to war;" Mrs. Win
kle repeated in a whisper. Now she
looked actually frightened, amazed,
and hurt.
It had been years since Mr.. Win
kle had seen such expressions on his
wife's face. They affected him deep
ly. He began, "Now. Amy"
you'll be killed." Mrs. Wrinkle
walled.
At this excitement, and perhaps
at the new, strange tone in Mrs.
Wrinkles voice, Penelope began to
howl.
Mr.. Wrinkle had counted on no
such behavior on the part Of his
wife. He had become so accustomed
to her shrewish ways that he hadn't
pictured them being punctured so
abruptly.
He realized what blow It was to
her. She was threatened with not
having him around to order about.
To have him removed from her
and sent off to war destroyed her
defenses and left her bewildered and
alone. It revealed the basic af-
lection she had for him. Mr.. Wrinkle
reflected that It was taking the
greatest war In history to accom-
plish this.
From the look on her face, Mr..
Wrinkle almost expected Amy to be-
gin weeping. But she didn't. She
just sat there staring at him, her
eyes bright and wide and dry, and
he sat staring at her. They re-
garded each other awesomely while
Penelope continued to howl.
| Penelope was interrupted by the
shrill ringing Of the telephone. Mr..
Wrinkle made q movement to 60 into
the living room to answer It, but
Mrs. Wrinkle, with rather wild look
on her face, started before he did.
She appeared to want to do some