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Newspaper Page Text
daughter of our tobacco king, ob
jects much to life at Ellis Island.
He thinks the immigrants are
"too coarse to associate with"
, and the ''meals at the restaurant
aren't good enough' He can't
buy 50-cent cigars there, either.
He. has to smoke the regular-five-cent
brand, and champagne is
Poor prince! It's jolly rotten
luck, isn't it?
A CIGAR BAND'S WORK
(Copyrotten,. 1912, by Bunk and
Maisie hummed a happy little.
tune as she leaned gracefully but
quite naturally over the "garden
gate. And why should she not be
happy? A delicate blush mantled
her rounded cheeks as she asked
herself the question, and with the
keen intuition of a woman's heart
answered it almost instantan
eously. Yes, indeed why should
Maisie lived quite alone with
her mother, two maiden aunts
and six little cousins in the hum
ble cottage at the edge.of the vil
lage. The rent had not been paid
for several-months, and yet they
were all cheerful. For was not
Maisie soon to wed a wealthy
guy? She Sure was, if nothing
sidetracked her. Oh, happy, hap
py dream of youth 1 ""
But who js this, coming down
the lane? It is he. He is tall and
handsome and dark, and his
moustache curls naturally. In a
moment her little golden head is
resting on his well-padded shoul
fSomethxng troubles you, Clar
ence' she said for Clarence was
indeed his name. How maiden
hood knows 1
He folded her passionately to
his breast. "I I am going away
from here!" he muttered.
She fainted, but the tooth
brush in-liis waistcoat pocket
tickled her pose and she revived.
"Going away from here?" she re
peated with a cold- numbness in
"It Won't be for long," he stam
mered, "There-are some new
candidates at th lodge, and "
"Enough!" sheiussedr "Go!"
He laughed a' hollowed laugh,
and drew a cigar from hife pocket.
Recklessly he tore, the gilt band
from the midxjle, threw jt to the
ground, lighted" the cigar and,
clenching it .savagely-in his well
filled teeth, strode-down flie walk.
How long she sobbed her heart
out on the bid garden gate Maisie
never knew. But what sound is
this? She raises her tear-stained
dimpled face. "Glarcnce !"
The golden head again rested
on the toothrbrushed, pencil
holdered breast. "You came
back" f she cries.
"Yes," he confesses, "I had to.
You see, I am saving the cigar
bands, and in the excitement o
the moment-- "
Maisie often shows to her chil
dren the chiefest of her treasurer
a faded cigar, band. And when
they ask its meaning she repeats
the old tale of How It Brought
Clarence Back to Her!