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Newspaper Page Text
OUT OF THE ORDINARY
The Girl Who Talked Enough
for Herself and Lover,1 Too.
JBill Dillon prided himself on
being the most silent man in
Webster county. Compared with
Mr. Dillon, an oyster was as a
steam calliope and a1 clam as a
German cornet band. There
were not more than three men in
Springfield who had heard Bill
say four words at a time.
One of these is Ab Duggins,
who declares that wljen" the court
house and hall of the town burn
ed Bill remarked "It's a right
smart blaze." ,
There was considerable suri
prise when Mr. Dillon began to
manifest a liking for pretty Olive
Duncan. Olive was the cham
pion talker (or talkeress) of
Bill met Olive at a lawn fete
given by the Enoch Tuckers. Bill
had been sitting' for .an hour un
der a Japanese .lantern whittling
a Persian cat out of a pine stick
and saying yea or nay to no one.
When the hostess introduced
Olive, he did not even acknowl
edge the honor.
"Isn't it a pleasant evening?"
said Olive. "You know I just
dote on these early fall nights,
when the wind first begins to rus
tle the turning leaves. Don't you
think it is perfect, Mr. Dillon?"
"Nope," grunted Mr. Dillon.
"What's that?" asked Miss
Duncan, surprised at the contra
diction, but Bill would not re
peat Then she deliberately set to
work to draw him out'. ." "What
possible drawback is there, Mr.
Dillon? Why don't - you agree
w,ith me? Why don't you think
these nights are perfect?" '
Bill waited until the cat was
whittled. "Nothing's- perfect,"
he replied, as a great concession.
Bill wa's a novelty for Miss
Duncan ; and she sat and told him
of her childhood and early say
ings, of her birthstone, religious
belief and-favorite chocolates, of
the big time she had at the Simp-1
son county fair, and of the'delic
ious novel by Bertha M.' Clay
she was then reading, while BH1
whittled successively a rabbit, a
bootjack arid an Alderney cow.
But when she departed he call
ed out "Good night," which was
the first time in'his placid life that
he had so honored 'a woman.
" Next day he-appeared at-Olive's
home with-a pink, .gift-corded
box,, which he handed to. Miss
Duncan. When she opened it,
fat, cone-shaped chololates nes
"Oh, s,uch delicious bonbons!
How good of you to remember
me, Mr. Dillon ? How can I ever
thank you !"
Bill was whittling an Angora
goat at the time, and it was
rather a delicafe piece of work,
did not answer. As he passed
out the gate, however, he hesitat
ed, then retraced his steps.
"Candy," he confided in a,
hoarse grunt; and went on about
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