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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 21, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 14

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

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-02-21/ed-1/seq-14/

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tons polished, stood on a stool by
my side.
But I seemed Roomed never to be
married, even inlun.
It seems that the jealous Bearded
Lady whispered to the Fat Girl a dire
canard that Mr. Kiester had been
sworn in as If magistrate, and that
the ceremony might prove more than
a joke on the public. That was
enough for the Fat GirL She launch
ed herself at me like , a steam roller
and snatched away the bridegroom.
I little dreamed that the most out
raged of human motives struggled
under that placid expanse of bosom.
-o-
How'd I know the dwarf was Tier
husband. r
'"I don't wanna take no chances,"
she panted. "It might be bigamy!"
It made a great scene, but it broke j
up the show .
"After all your slamming at him,"
I hissed to her, as I packed my hand-
ful of wedding presents under my
arm and left the Karavan of Kurios t
forever, "what makes you so scared
you'll lose the little shrimp?"
"Well," whined tha Fat Girl, "I've ,
got to have a pertector, don't I?" 1
(The End.)
o-
THE CONFESSIONS OF A WIFE
TWO VIEWPOINTS OF LIFE
Chapter LXXXIV.
Father Waverly was much better
this morning and has improved all
day, but poor Mother Waverly is quite
sick. She seems to like me about her
better than Mollie and this morning,
after I had her bathed and her bed
and night clothes changed, I went in
to the suit case T had brought over
and found one of my pretty boudoir
caps and put it on her.
The pink ribbons looked lovely on
her white hair and a flush, of pleasure
tinged her cheeks as she said, depre
ciatingly: "Oh, Margie, I'm too old to
wear this dainty thing i."
"No, you're riot mother dear, just
look at yourself'' I said, giving her
the hand glass. . -
A woman is never too. old to-take
an interest in her looks and when she
ceases to be pleased with a compli
ment you may know she is ready to
die.
Mrs. Waverly was far from wishing
to leave this world and her face light
ed up with pleasure when she saw
how pretty she looked.
"Now, you just lie still and look
out of the window while I go down
and bring up your breakfast."
"I don't want anything to eat, Mar
gie. I could not taste a thing."
"Don't begin by thinking about it,
mother dear," I said. Wait until you '
see what I bring you."
I had seen some luscious looking,
strawberries at the corner grocery
the day before, and although it is '
winter and I knew they would be ex
pensive I determined to get them to
tempt her appetite.
I hurried out for the berries, made
a cup of fresh coffee and toasted
some bread a delicate brown and cut
it in strips. While the coffee was mak
ing I even churned a little pat of fresh
butter in the glass cream whipper.
Then I fixed up the trap with Mother
Waveriy's daintiest doilies, china and
silver. The strawberries I left withy
their hulls on and just as I had them'
arranged oh the plate with the toast
beside it and the coffee in the tiny '
pot, a boy brought a big bunch of
roses for Dad. I stole a pink one and'
laid it on the tray.
It would have tempted anyone.
When Mother Waverly saw it she
gave a. lit,tle cry of delight and 'ex-'
claimed: "Margie, how beautiful. I .
know I can eat every bit of it" And
she did!
When f went back down stairs I
took out the flowers and found a card
with Eleanor Fairlow's. name. I won
dered how she knew Dad was sick
and then-took mys.elf to task for sus-
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