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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, October 03, 1912, Image 14',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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and he had gone west, to make his
fortune. Noy after, thre years
he had returnedto what?
Through the mist brolke.a scent
of patchouli. Out of it he saw a
woman apprpach, with fashion
ably done hair and gaudy dress;
and through the floating, clouds
he saw a slim hand, much'bejew
eled, Stretched -forth to his.
Whylf it isn't Jan !" exclaijn
ed Mina. "I-guess you didn't
know me, -Jan. Well, what are
you staring at?" she continued to.
the girl. "Get busy with your
work, whatever it is! Ain't she
the impudent thing! Just a green
horn, you know ! Come right in,
Jan, and tell me about yourself
and if you've brought back a wad
to blow in in New York. And
say, Jan, can't you cut out that
stuff you wrote me about getting
married and show me a good time
in this burg instead. Nix on a
Minnesota farm for mine!"
He escaped afterward it
might have been hours or min
utes, but the last thing of which
he was aware was Mina standing
at the door of her apartment and
gazing after him with a puzzled,
"Poor Jan ! You haven't learn
ed much in Minnesota, Jan!", she
had said at parting. And her de
signs on his pocketbook had been
transparent enough to bring a
blush of shame to his tanned face,
so that he could only raise his
hat mechanically in response to
She had refused to discuss their
marriage; instead, he was to take
her to dinner on the next evening.
His love had changed to horror. , '
For three years her memory, her
letters changed though they
were had been the spur which
goaded him to success. Now the
fabric of ambition which he had
built up was shattered.
But in the loneliness of his (
room that night his thoughts
gradually began to flow in their
accustomed groove again. He
must have been mistaken. Sure
ly Mina Jensen, the little country,
girl whom he had met in thej
steerage, animated by the same
hopes as himself, cradled in the.
same land, could not have chang
ed so. Perhaps it was he'whq
had changed. Perhaps he was
too slow, had remained a "green-jl
uuui, iui an ma suicas, wuuc
she had progressed beyond him.
TTa rapnltron . fall Hot oiFflwr.
4-t,:- .-. r T.B (nltntiMnn- -.-rI-.t ill
tiling uiiaii luuuwuig nigiHj an j
his aims and aspirations; to beg
her to come back with him to
Minnesota. There, on their lone
ly farm, they would settle, as the
old folks had done in Sweden,,
they would be happy. . .
He fell asleep at last, happy in
But on the next night the old
feejing came over him again at
the sight of the hall, the scent of,
perfume, the faded tawdyfness of ,
it. He hesitated upon the thres
hold; he could not enter.
And the little maid's eyes were
red from tears.
"You have been cryingj myjfr
dear," said Olesen, tising the"
Swedish word of endearment. ,t
"What is the matter? You won't
tell me? Yes, you'll tell a fellpw,?