THE CAMERA CLEW
(Copyright by W. G. Chapman.)
By Mildred Caroline Coodridge.
Ned Travers sniffed the air deli
ciously, smacked his lips and peered
through the trees towards a neat little
farmhouse on the edge of the town.
From its kitchen there came a con
stant odorous stream. It made Ned
think of home and mother in its pat-
"It Will Work in Well in Some Good
'Movies' Story," He Told Himself.
- ent suggestiveness of brown, crisp
dough puffing up into comely knobs
- and rings. Then he saw through in
- open window a dainty, bustling young
i lady, with tucked-up sleeves and
aproned and Ned thought of his sis
ter. And the,n as the pretty maid set a
great eanhen bowl in the window,
piled high with the creamy golden-
flaked results of her labor,' Ned
caught a full view of her winsome
face. It gave his heart a warning
thrill and then a twinge.
Wherefore the latter? His pride
answered promptly. Contrast brought
a sudden "blur to a manly longing
heait. The picture before hiai -was
so sweet, so solacing that he would
have liked to become a vital part of it.
Of course the lovely face influenced
this particular sentiment.
Ned was fairly down and out.
Worse that that just at this especial
moment he was dust laden, travel
worn, thirsty and hungry. He had but
one possession of value with him.
oddly out of place or negotiation just
here and now. This was his bulkj
outfit for taking moving pictures.
Ned had been out for a month with
a "movies" crew that had gone to
pieces for lack of capital. A lesson
well learned at heart, he was return
ing home, wiser, though chastened.
So he had little part in or claim
to the social or aesthet'V phases of
life just at the present time. With a
sigh, for he was a poet and a dreamer
at heart, he started in the direction
of the near village. Just then, how
ever, the fair cook came out of the
house and went to the well nearby.
An inverted goblet decorated the
pump post. She drew it full of water
with a healthy farm girl's will, drain
ed it and returned to the house.
The sight of the clear, sparkling
water aggravated the thirst of the
weary wayfarer. He boldly entered
the yard and took half a dozen cool,
refreshing draughts. There was a
rustic bench near at hand. He sat
down to rest, appreciating the haven
of peace about him. Then his glance
fell upon the piled up heap of rich
cookery set to cool on the window
"Wish I was a boy again," mur
mured Ned. "It makes me think of
the old happy days," and then he
arose quickly from his 'careless atti
tude of repose. Either the young
lady was lonely or she had noted his
ardent glance at the doughnuts. She
-came tripping towards him, a plate in,
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