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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, May 26, 1915, NOON EDITION, Image 19',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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In the hard-working, slew-going
town. His shoe became unlaced as
he was crossing a rustic bridge span
ning a ravine near the river. Alvin
set his dinner pail on the rail.
Crack! He glanced up quickly, in
time to see his dinner pail go flying
from its place, rolling down a steep
incline and strike the river. He no
ticed two boys rushing through the
yard of a vine-embowered cottage
by. One carried a sling-shot. They
rapidly got beyond pursuit. Alvin
tried to make out where his noonday
lunch and its receptable had landed,
failed, and proceeded toward the
plant half a mile farther on.
"I shan't mourn much," he humor
outly told himself. "A restaurant
meal will be a pleasant variation."
It must have been two hours later
when the timekeeper of the plant
came to him. He carried a tin dinner
pail with a dent in one side.
"This yours?" he inquired. "I fan
cy so, for your initials are scratched
on the cover."
"Why, yes," replied Alvine, inspect
ing his missing dinner pail. "Where
did you get It?"
"Two boys brought it, said it be
longed to a man working here and
described you. Then they scooted
away as if scared into a hurry."
"Remorse or genuine good-heart-edness,"
smiled Alvin. "Thanks,"
and he thought no more of the inci
dent until noon quitting time.
Then as he removed the cover of
the dinner pail, in profound bewilder
ment he stared. A napkin spotlessly
white came first Beneath was a heap
of dainty meat sandwiches. A layer
- of lettuce leaves, and there nestled a
square of pie nudging harmoniously
a thick slice of raisin cake.
"My original lunch must have
spilled out, and those two mischiev
ous lads, in a spasm of contrition
must have recovered the pail and had
it refilled at home," reasoned Alvin.
"Home oh, somewhere in this town
there is a famous cook! My favorite
dainty, too raisin .bread!"
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The toothsomeness of the unex
pected repast lingered like after-fragrance
of a rose, as he passed the
spot where the catastrophe of the
dinner pail had transpired. Alvin
had never before noticed the sylvan
beauty of the little cottage standing
back from the road amid a nest of
greenery and flower. For the first
time, too, he observed a written card,
nailed to the fence post. It read:
"Can accommodate one or two board
"If the food they dispense is any
thing like what I got today," rumin
ated Alvin, "I can't do better than
make the change."
Which Alvin proceeded to do the
next day. The comfort and coziness
of the place delighted him. There
was an added charm. He found that
the widow who owned the house had
a daughter who assumed the duties
of hostess in a way that made him
feel at home.
Netta Day was a beautiful girl. She
was musical and so was Alvin. Twp
pleasant evenings surrounded by real
friendliness and culture gave Alvin a
new spur in life.
The third evening as he sat down
to supper there was raisin bread. He
could not help but praise it. Then
naturally in his usual good-natured
way Alvin recited the episode of the
disappearing dinner paiL He com
mended the worthy restitution made
by the two mischievous boys.
"Why," suddenly spoke up Mrs.
Day. "Netta made them return the
"Mother!" warned Netta, 'flushing.
"Yes, and It was Netta who filled
the dinner p"ail,"nproceeded Mrs. Day.
"It's original contents had gone into
the river. She made the boys recover
the dinner pail."
Alvin glanced gratefully at Netta.
Amid her confusion she seemed love
lier than ever to him.
One evening two months later,
coming home from work, Alvin was
considerably surprised to meet his
uncle, Gideon Blake, r