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Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
Newspaper Page Text
mmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm ing. People stared at him as he tore across the road. The kite made a final dive and landed on the roof of an old ruin of a barn. A woman at the door of a house near by screamed hysterically as Clyde seized a ladder at the door step. Her husband came running out with a gun. Heedless of everything save that precious let ter, Clyde placed the ladder against the eaves of the barn. Their rotted ends broke away like punk, but he ran up the ladder, crept across the mouldering shin gles, and reached the kite. "Got it at last!" he gasped joyfully, as he tore the coveted "messenger" from the string "the mischief!" Under his weight the flimsy -roof bent in like a piece of rub ber. His clothes caught on a score of nails. Rip-snip-tear! Clyde rolled a foot, a cloud of dust covering him. A big spike ripped one sleeve from end to end. Clyde dropped to the ground. He was a doleful sight smudg ed, perspiring, in tatters but he laughed gaily, exultantly he had the letter! "Why, Mr. Bissell!" exclaimed a surprised voice as he came out on the road that of Viola her self, halting the automobile she drove and stared, startled but amused. "What has happened?'' "This!" replied the young law yer, promptly, desperately "a lost letter." "Oh, dear!" and Viola flushed all over her fair face. "I that is shall I take you home?" She made room for him. But the shy miss did not start the ma chine villageward. She took the quiet, beautiful brookside road, canopied over with arching trees, and lined with radiant flowers, and with singing birds all about them. The auto went slower and slower, and stopped in a lovely A nest of greenery. Viola regarded her prince in tatters arfchly as he told his story. A smile she could not help it mingled with the love light in her gentle eyes. "Shall I open the letter?" in quired Clyde. "But it is too late to come now, as I asked yoj," she said, drop ping her glance. "Oh, then you asked me to come!" cried her lover, in a tone like a cheer." It was to tell you something. Shall I tell it now, here how much I love you?" He took silence for assent ' such sweet, modest, inviting si lence, indeed ! and the birds sang on, and the flowers appeared to nod blessings towards them, and all the good, happy world seemed young. (Copyright by W. G. Chapman.) MINT PUNCH Put into a bowl a cup of granur lated sugar. Add the juice of six lemons and stir until the sugar 1 melts. Put in three peeled lemons, sliced very thin, and lieave on ice until you are ready to use it. Add then a dozen sprays of green mint and a quart, at least, of pounded ice. Stir well for a min ute and pour from a height into it two or three bottle of ginger ale.