OCR Interpretation


The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, January 30, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 19

Image and text provided by University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-01-30/ed-1/seq-19/

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"Will I! Daisy," pronounced Ronald
breathlessly, "I'd die for you!"
"You needn't do that, but you can
win me as your best friend and sis
ter "
"I've got one of those already," ex
plained Ronald miserably.
-"Don't be silly, but listen carefully.
You remember Roscoe Daltqn?"
"Oh, yes, Daisy."
"He loves Bertha and she loves
him. He went away to make a mark'
in the world and come back and mar
ry her.""
"I'll do that, top," said Ronald val-.
orously, "if you'll only "
"Let's see how far youll help me
just now before we talk nonsense,"
challenged the little coquette sharp
ly. "Well,v tomorrow is a holiday.
Old Silas Banks is coming over to
spend the day with us.. Father is
bound that Bertha shall marry him.
If he gets here and Roscoe don't
come to spirit Bertha away, she will
become engaged to the meanest,
surliest old miser - in the . county.
Now" whisper.
Ronald thrilled at the close con-
tact of those delicious lips. Then his
eyes brightened as the plot was dis
closed. Finally he laughed, and
chuckled.
"Oh, you dear, smart, darling girl!"
he cried in his enthusiasm. "You're
you're a brick!" and tried to kiss
her,' and Daisy gave him a slap In
the face for his pains.
"All right," he bobbed gleefully,
"you're the kind that gets sorry after
getting mad."
"I'm not mad," declared the politic
Daisy. ' "Real heroes get their re
ward after really doing something."
"Well do something for you, ha!
ha! Well carry out your plan to the
dotr-ho! ho! Daisy, 'count on the
crowd.-, Silas Banks won't spend any
holiday at Brookville tomorrow."
Silas Banks lived twenty miles
away on a lonely old farm, isolated
and with one route only to Brookville.
This crossed a rocky, hilly stretch,
arid with the road weU choked up
with snqw he set out early with his
clumsy bobsled and crowbatt steed
to reach the home of his bride ex
pectant. Two .hours before daylight Ronald
and his loyal boy friends had reached
Bald hill, ten miles from town. Here
the single roadway led for half a
mile through a deep cut. At once the
willing mob threw off their coats and
began rolling snowballs. They were
no ordinary spheres. It took four
boys to move one after the soft, plas
tic snow had molded together. They
worked with vim, with a will. Then
they built a Are, roasted potatoes and
waited.
Old Dobbin was well-night ex
hausted and lamed, and one trace
broken and mended, by the time . old
Silas had covered much of his jour
ney. He was half minded to turn
back and abandon his love-making
enterprise more than once. Then he
became wholly minded as he turned
into the cut below Bald hill.
"Thunder!" he ejaculated.
Before, his asto"uridea,eyes was a
formidable blockade.- It-wa fully
twenty feet-high; .it extended beyond
his present range, of vision. There
was mass upon mass plied up in the
gully, giant snowballs packed thick
and heavy. One could neither sur
mount nor burrow through this great
obstacle. And then came new disas
ter for the aged suitor. The waiting
throng of "fair Daisy's contingent
rolled a mighty snowball downhe
side of the cut. It knocked off the
hat of the driver, it tumbled down in
to the wagon box and anchored it as
under an avalanche.
Then there was a shower of
smaller spheres. Old Silas suddenly
awoke to the realization that some
one disliked him somehow, retreated
and reached home wiser and sadder
and stayed there.
John Newcombe fumed and fretted
when his expected guest did not ar
rive. . There was a glum, delayed
holiday dinner. Then Mr. Newcombe
took a walk. Somehow the episode

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