OCR Interpretation


The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, November 01, 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/sn83045487/1915-11-01/ed-1/seq-18/

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THE WEEPING TREE
By Mary Gertrude Sheridan
"What's that gnarled crooked spike
of a thing, anyway?-"-hailed a neigh
bor of Bruce Martin, as" they got off
the suburban train at Groveville.
"That," explained Mr. Bruce Mar
tin with a pose of self-importance, "is
an apple-grafted weeping tree."
"Gift?" persevered the neighbor.
"No, Miss Dortle's father makes a
fad of arboriculture, and I ran across
this rare variety."
The speaker took a quizzical squint
at the long, awkward-looking sap
ling. It certainly did not prepossess
favor, rather suggesting the typical
bean pole.
"Weeping tree, ah?" he chuckled.
"Say, I think the old man will weep
when he sees it!"
Martin passed by the intimation
with a light laugh, but the dart
struck home. Now Bruce Martin was
a very important personage to his
owb. way of thinking. Bos self-assertive
dignity was easily ruffled.
He had two faults a ready re
sentment for any one disputing his
opinion and a mad reckless away of
flying off the handle at the least im
pulse. Life had been easy to him. He
had some money and he had Cherry
Dortle. Even she had come into his
loving heart without persistent woo
ing or any crosses along the path of
courtship. He was a spoiled youth,
therefore, and really did not value his
rare blessings.
With a good deal of pride he
walked over to the house of his
sweetheart after supper, carrying his
prize with him. He was anxious to
please Mr. Dortle because he was the
father of Cherry. A friend in whose
judgment he relied had directed him
where he' could get just what he
wanted in the way of a weeping tree.
Here is was, and he proudly entered
the garden and presented it to his
.prospective father-in-law.
"IJ-um!" commented the old man
slowly, inspecting the gift with a crit
ical eye "call this a weeping tree,
do you?''
"I don't call it that it really is
one, and of.a very rare kind, to," pro
nounced Martin, somewhat nettle'd at
the dubous, tone of the old man.
The latter only shrugged his shoul
ders, but helped as the tree was
planted in the front garden. Then
Cherry put her foot in it by intimat
ing that "father rarely made a mis
take." Martin felt that he had been
"sat on." He did not pass a very
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For Nearly an Hour They Ques
tioned Him.
agreeable evening. He left early, had
a fit of tie grumps, got up the next
morning feeling abused and savage
and all day long nursed his wrath.
"No use talking, that old fellow
wants to boss me and so does Cher
ry," he ruminated. "They don't re
spect my opinions. I've a good mind
to stay in the city for a week!"
Martin did not do that, but he took
a drink or two before he left for home
and on the train unwisely gol into al
game of cards m the smoker;
yAft?3S.ftA- Affii. - .
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