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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, January 08, 1915, LAST EDITION, Image 18

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

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1915-01-08/ed-1/seq-18/

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By George Elmer Cobb
(Copyright by W. G. Chapman)
"She's the finest lady in the land,"
soliloquized David" F'enn, professor,
"and I somehow hanker after her
company. But, no I don't seem to
be able to summon up the courage to
call on her."
Kindly-faced, kindly-natured Mr.
Fenn referred to Miss Ursula Fetzer,
spinster. There has been a time
when he had called on her. She was
neat as waxwork about her little
home. Barely thirty, yet she called
herself an old maid. She had worked
at teaching music to accumulate the
little home and an income, had re
ceived some hard knocks in the world
and was exclusive and a bit quick
and sharp in her talk and manner.
David had thought her a most
comely lady. Somehow, though, Miss
Ursula had struck him as not caring
greatly for his company. In this he
was mistaken. It was "her ways"
that led to his erroneous impression.
He mistook a certain strained wom
anly dignity for repellant dislike for
mankind. Her, eyes looked clear
through him. He was a timid man.
He had ceased his visits when he be
came a professor at a college in a
neighboring town.
This especial day business had
brought him to Verden. There was
a fond lingering memory of the cozy
little home that smelled of lavender
and the inspiring cup of tea Miss
Ursula brewed. When he came to the
street where the artistic cottage
among the shrubbery was located, he
halted. Then he started on, walked
back, and then started on again, mur
muring: "I'll just pass the house. Of course
I wouldn't venture in without an in
vitation." Then as he reached the fenced-in
nest of the lady he so respected, he
dallied. A faint sigh stole from his
lips. The honeysuckles blooming so
radiantly, reminded him of a sweet
peaceful afternoon he had spent on
the porch -with the mistress of that
ideal home.
"Neat as ever everything in or
der," he soliloquized. "She is a won
derful woman. Ah, what is that?"
Professor Fenn might well ask.
His placid peace of mind was sud
denly invaded. A sharp scream rang
out through the open front door of
the cottage. The tones electrified the
Staring Towards the House as if
. Fearing Some Dreaded Pursuer.
professor, for he instantly recognized
that they belonged to Miss Fetzer.
The next moment she herself in per
son burst past the screen door. She
was wringing her hands. She bound
ed down the steps recklessly. Then
with an agile spring she leaped to a
garden seat, and gathering up her
dainty white skirts, posed breathless,
scaring towards the house as if -fear-
-i m

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