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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, January 12, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 18',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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WON BY WAITING
By Mildred Caroline Goodridge.
It was a festal eve everywhere. The
ground was covered with snow and
the thick flakes still-falling- A biting
wind blew John Lane before it, but
his heart was warm and' he smiled' as
he buffeted the tempest, bearing a
goodly stored market basket.
Still a. bachelor at- 28, John Lane
was pursuing a brief journey that had
a rare tinge of romance to it He had
"I Don't now That I Am. Going a
ome to Brdokville, a near'suburban
iwn, upon the invitation of some old
iends, the Ward family. John had
.nown these worthy people for a long
while Miss Muriel Ward particular
ly. She was two years younger than
himself, still she classified in the
oup of "spinsters."
"I don't know that I am doing a
wise thing," mused John, as he strode
along. "It's opening up the lost past
. lost, because I have never been able
to put enough aside to offer Muriel
the home she should have. Ah, me!"
he sighed resignedly, "the little sav
ings I put by are small, indeed. Now
they have asked me to spend a holi
day with them. I shall see Muriel.
Her sunny face will make life the
sweeter, but when I go back to my
humdrum work again the regret will
be the keener."
John had brought a genuine holi
day offering with him a noble tur
key, a parcel of toothsome fruit, sev
eral boxes of bonbons, some toys for
the children. It cheered' his sterling
soul to be thus generous, even amid .
his necessities. He knew the old Ward
home at Brookville, but they had
moved, and he was trying to locate
them from their written directions.
"I declare," he said, halting and.
puffing, from his undue exertions,
"I'm quite at sea. This can't be Mag
nolia terrace. I believe I'll inquire."
John started' towards a little iso
lated house where he observed a
light in its rear rooms. He rested his
heavy basket on the stoop and
knocked at the door several times.
No one responded, and leaving the
basket where he had placed it, John
started around the house to pursue
his inquiries at the kitchen door.
"The mischief!" exclaimed John,
as he passed near a frozen water
spout. His feet gave way, he was
conscious of a heavy fall, and then
lost sensibility. .
He must have soon aroused, but in
a dazed condition. It was at a new
spot to which he had wandered, that
he came to himself. His arm hung
helpless at his side, he had forgotten
all about the basket, he was seated
on a street curb and' a village watch
man was shaking him.
"Rouse up, my man," urged this
latter individual. "You'll freeze to
death here. What's the trouble?"
"I have had a fall and lost my
senses, I guess," responded John
weakly. "I was bound for the Ward
"I'll help you there," and in des
perate faintness and pain John was