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title: 'The Day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, July 28, 1915, NOON EDITION, Image 18',
meta: 'News about Chronicling America - RSS Feed',
Image provided by: University of Illinois at Urbana-Champaign Library, Urbana, IL
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BY RURAL DELIVERY
i By Emma Walter Bross
i The good-looking but modest post
iman on Rural Deliyery Route 21, Dis
.trict K, experiencecTa token of inter
est and a flutter of expectation as he
neared the half tubular zinc recepta
.cle labeled "Adam Foster."
Beyond, at the end of a leafy-roofed
arcade 200 feet long, was the sub
stantial, inviting-looking old farm
house. It held three daughters and
two sons. In one of them young
: Worth Merrell was especially inter
ested. A shy, blushing, fluttering
young creature, the morning previous
she had flitted down the shady lane
to the side of the mail cart, light and
graceful as some fairy.
He had handed her some letters ad
dressed to her father and a couple of
magazines. She had smiled upon him
in a way that set his nerves tingling.
In her embarrassment she had
dropped letters and bundles. Their
heads had bumped together as they
stooped mutually to recover them.
Then both had smiled. ,
"Could you would you that is, I
must get a small package to Nellie
Blake you know? the next farm
"Surely," assented Merrill eagerly.
"I can't go there and I can't wait
to have it mailed."
"As a private individual I am at
your serve," bowed MerrilL
"Oh, thank you," and Pearl Foster
handed him a neat parcel, smiled be
witchingly and flitted away like a
The Blake home was the last farm
house on Merrill's route. He delivered
the package to Miss Blake and went
on his way, dreaming fondly of the
lovely girl who had broken the ice of
a mutual acquaintance.
Merrill looked eagerly for his
ohnrmiiiir irlpal fhfi next dav. but it
Lwas raining, so she did not come
ra to the mail box at the road,
sjjezt afternoon was fair, but the
farm path leading up to the house
was muddy. From the porch, how
ever, Pari made urgent gestures, ap
parently directing the attention of
Merrill to a package on top of the let
Merrill saw that it exactly resem
bled the one he had delivered to Miss
Blake two days previous. It felt soft
and fluffy and he decided it was some
article of feminine adornment, a lace
collar, an embroidered handkerchief
or the like. Merrill had heard that
the elder sister of Miss Blake was
Confronted by a Brawny Tramp
about to be married. This new par
cel, he theorized, might be a contri
bution to a prospective linen shower.
At all events he took it up, waved
it at Pearl to indicate that he under
stood, and his pulse heightened as she
vigorously bobbed her pretty head
and smiled radiantly.
At the last delivery point Merrill
had picked a spray of forget-me-nots.
He released the tiny thing of beauty
from his buttonhole and placed it be
tween two letters directed to Pearl
and went oh. his way.