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Newspaper Page Text
'JANE WHITAKER SAYS THIS IS A TRUE STORY
BY JANE WHITAKER
Did you ever look back on the foloish things you did when you were
I was planning my vacatiQn the other night when my cousin Jean re
minded me of the trip we took together when I was seventeen.
Jean had taken me to a place called Fites Eddy, which is on the Sus
quehanna river. Her husband and the members of a club to which he be
longed were camping on the other side of the river, and Jean and I stopped
at the hotel, where we were the only women among a crowd of wealthy
men who spent their week-ends there fishing.
, It was a beautiful place! Just the hotel and not another dwelling. The
river flowed sot close that there was only a little pier and a flight of steps
The railroad track passed beside the porch, and In the rear the moun
tains rose up against the hotel like
Of course, I wag romantics-one al
ways is at seventeen. Besides, I had
a new frock. Therefore I had quite a
dream of conquests.
But alas! The men informed us
they did not want to be pestered with
women, they had come' away for a
man's good time, and even my
cousin's husband resented our intru
sion. I offered to make chocolate
fudge "by way of a bribe, but they
would have none of it
Sunday evening Jean and I sulked.
I"remembered 1 might have gone to
the nark at home, and she reflected
.she might have been in, Atlantic City
The boys across the river had
given us to understand that they did
not care to come over to the hotel
and spend the evening with us, and
on the little pier beside the-hotel the
millionaire fisherman wereBmoking.
Jean and I went downrto the
bridge, about a stone's throw away,
and in a spirit of meanness I sug
gested that we sjng.
I will not comment on my own
voice, but I will say frankly thai; I
never heard anything worse than my
cousin's. She insisted on accom
panying my soprano with her alto,
and two cats disputing onthe back
fence could not have made fa worse
The' landlord came dowrf to the
bridge. "The gentlemen want to
know if you win not join them on the
pier?" . -
"No, thank you," I snapped. Then,
as the poor man retreated, I said to
Jean: "They want us to shut up.
Let us sing where Is My Wandering
Boy Tonight "
And again we made the night air
This time it was one of the men-;
who came down. I suppose they were '
desperate. At any rate, I realized it
would be rather tiresome to have
them coming one at a time, so we un
graciously consented to join them.
Someone asked me to 'sing again.
but I was in a very revengeful mood
and I knew I could do something even
worse than singing.
Like all girls at that age, I was
stage-struck- an"d taking elocution
lessons. My teacher thought I would
be splendid entertaining children, r
and she used to make me say baby
things until I was almost crazy, but
on the sly I rehearsed every tragic '
selection I could get hold of. In fact,
it had grown so bad that, when I
opened my mouth at home, my entire
family ran out of the room.
Therefore, I thought the best tor-,
ture I could inflict would be a tragic
recitation. I announced my ability
quite, calmly, and of course they per-
mitted me to favor them.
vMyjfirst selection was railed "Th i
u-. y r s Jaf?U. f-JJhtttotf