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The day book. [volume] (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, May 27, 1916, NOON EDITION, Image 19

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Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1916-05-27/ed-1/seq-19/

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had pleased him- the moment she
came from Tipton to answer his ad
vertisement "He hit the hand that reared him,"
continued old man Wimpole. "That
was two years ago, after he came
back from college. I am a man who
insists on obedience. Not that I'm
hard. By my son he was a son to
H me went and married a hussy from
heaven knows where withoutying
a word to me. They telegraphed to
me for forgiveness. I wired back not
to show their faces in Tuxtree or I'd
, have them arrested. Not that I could
have done so. But it scared them.
That's the sort of man I am."
Miss Amelia opened her lips as if
' to speak and then closed them again.
Old man Wimpole admired that, too.
Few women can do it.
"I wanted some one to take care
of me. I advertised for ,4 daughter.
First woman that came along
thought I -wanted a wife instead.
Wanted to cinch my money. I warned
her. ' But she would make love to me.
Told me I was a handsome jeld man.
That settled her hash.
"Daughter No. 2 held out two
weeks until I caught her reading the
dummy will I'd put in the desk, leav
ing all hiy money to the Cats' and
Dogs' Friendly and Benevolent soci
ety. Then -she broke loose. Asked
me if I knew the happiness of matri
mony. That fixed her. She went
"Daughter No. 3 was the best of
the crowd. Sort of sharp-tempered.
I can stand for a natural infirmity as
. long as it's natural. -Can't stand for
fakes. What started me thinking
was when I 'told her her back hair
was working loose, and if she' didn't
P take care she'd pull it off with her
hat Never opened her mouth at me.
I fried the dummy will, but that did
not feaze her. I knew something
was wrong. Pretended to be engaged
v to a widow up Littlewood way and
then she sailed in. Called me an old
tyrant and a deceiver and swore she
would bring suit for breach of prom
ise against me. I fired her. ,
' "Now remember, I want a daugh
ter, riot ,a wife. Get that through
your head, Daughter Amelia, and
you'll stick, and maybe come into
thousand dollars when I die. I'm
sixty now, and my father died at
ninety. I'm living on my capital,
and if I live to ninety there'll be just
a thousand left"
"Yes, father," replied Miss Amelia,
taking off her hat. "I'll go and fix
things in the kitchen. You can
smoke all over the house."
"What d'you mean?" stammered
old man Wimpole.
"What I say. I always mean that,"
replied Miss Amelia. '
He learned what she meant during
successive days. First, the cuspidor
was removed from the porch. Then,
old man Wimpole found that if he
wasn't down to breakfast by eight he
got none. Third, old man Wimpole's
grog-bottle, which he used", it must
be admitted, moderately, was found
on the ash heap broken.
Between annoyance and apprecia
tion at a discipline which he recog
nized he 'needed, old man Wimpole
was soon reduced to submission.
Very candMly Amelia told him that
the job was no sinecure, that if he
wasn't satisfied he could look for
somebody else, and that if he
woUldn't'get anybody who had her
interest in him. Old man Wimpole
agreed. ,
But he laid traps for- her. He
watched her narrowly. He spoke one
evening about the joys of matri
mony, -and when Miss Amelia cut
him short he looked half pleased and
half perplexed. It was plain that old
man Wimpole had met his match.
It was about this time that the vil
lage began to note a curious change
in old man Wimpole. He, who had
held his former daughters under, had
harried and drfven them, so that it
was clear whichever one stayed she
wbuld have more than a servant's
duties he, old man Wimpole,
"knuckled under" to Miss Amelia.
The climax came when the rates col-

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