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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, December 10, 1912, Image 20',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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Her son! Was he, tKen, dis
claiming the paternity of the boy,
or did he not know?
"How old is he? He is a prom
ising little fellow?'" -
"Nearly four' answered the
woman. She was still trembling,
still overcome by the shock of the
meeting. Her little. butterfly mind
was badly bruised, even as the
child's little body had been.
"Four!" exclaimed Doctor
Bentley in astonishment. Nurse
Glynn, standing near, saw his
face turn pale. He made an im
pulsive step toward her. "Alice!
Whose .child is he? Who is his
father?" he demanded fiercely.
"I don't know," sobbed Mrs.
Blair. "Why do you ask me?
Why are you looking at me like
that? Haven't you injured me
enough that you should t terrify
me?" she sobbed. "I don't know
who is' its father, nor its mother
"Its mother!" gasped the doc
tor. "Isn't he your child then?"
"Certainly not!" she exclaim
ed, drawing herself up indignant
ly. "Do you suppose my child
would go to a common hospital if
he were injured. Didn't they tell
you that John ran the automobile
over a street brat? Yes," she con
tinued in a petulant voice, "and a
a crowd gathered and threatened
me," and if I hadn't had enough
presence of mind to jump out and
carry him into the hospital they
would have thrown stones at me.
And I don't dare go put if he
should be going to die, or I shall
be arrested and thrown into a
"Have no fear of that, Mrs.
Blair," answered the doctor
gravely. "I shall have you sent
home in my own automobile. And
the child will be well in a couple
of weeks. As for the damage "
"Mr. Blair is able to pay for
any damages," replied the woman
coldly. She had not understood.
The doctor bowed and turned
away. He walked straight past
Nurse Glynn; she followed him;
he turned and saw her.
"You know, then?" he asked,
seeing the look on her face.
. "Yes,, dear," she. whispered.
And I have been so afraid !"
He pressed her to his heart
"You thought it was my child?
If it had been"
"If it had been," she whispered
"Dearest," answered the doc
tor gravely. "I might have loved
then. But you would still have
been first in my heart as nowas
' Half a pint of buckwheat flour,
a quarter of a? pint of cornmeal,,a
quarter of a';pint of wheat flour, a
little salt, two eggs beaten very
light,- one quart of new milk
(made a little warm and mixed
with the eggs before the flour is
put in), one tablespoon of butter
or sweet lard, two Jarge table
spoons of yeast. Set it to rise at
night for the morning. If in the
least sour stir in enough soda in
morning to correct the acidity.
Christmas week is near atliand.
with all its joyful riefiglits.