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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, August 18, 1916, LAST EDITION, Image 14

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

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1916-08-18/ed-1/seq-14/

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sense and is not afraid to use both.
Says Ziegfeld, who has employed
more girls in the chorus than any
other man:
"The cocktail-drinking, cigarette-
Bmoking chorus girl makes no hit
with me. I pay Miss Lewis more than
any other chorus girl in my com
panies. I wish I could find more like
her."
MY SUMMER SEARCH FOR LOVE TRUE STORY
OF THE POOR GIRL WITHOUT A HOME
BY ETHEL G .
Chapter III.
By tellng my Btory in a straight
forward manner I got another posi
tion, under a woman boss.
This woman was 'an old maid, and
although she did not say so, I could
see from the expression on her face
that she had probably had much the
same expereineces.
I worked faithfully all summer for
her, but I was lonely oh, so lonely!
One evening, going home from
work, I slipped and almost fell under
the wheels of an automobile. Some
one jerked me aside and I looked up
into the smiling face of a man about
38 a man not of the working class.
He was kindness itself and, thor
oughly shaken, I allowed myself to
be led into a nearby drug store, while
my rescuer telephoned for a car.
A few minutes afterward a beau
tiful limousine drove up to the curb.
"Where to?" asked its owner.
I was not too brightened to notice
the peculiar smile that came over
his face as I named the address of
my modest boarding house.
The next day when I got home
from work I found a great bunch of
hothouse roses, the first I had ever
received.
For weeks this man did not come
near me, but every day I received
some evidence of his thought flow
ers, candy, books, once in a while a
telephone call.
One moonlight night he called me
up by telephone and asked me if I
wpuld not like to go motoring with
him.
I had a queer little qualm that
said "don't go' but I was lonely and
forlorn.
In a few minutes the car was at
the door.
The minute I stepped in I knew I
had made a mistake, but I tried to
cool and collected.
Rapidly we swung into the coun
try. His arm dropped back of the seat
to my waist
"Please don't," I said.
"Why not?" he asked.
I did not answer, for I did not
know "why not." This man was lov
able and I wanted love the right
kind of love.
I looked into his face and what I
saw there told me it was NOT the
right kind.
Then I was almost crushed in the
wildest of embraces. I began to
struggle.
"Why do you do this?" he asked
in surprise. "Surely you knew,
when you accepted this invitation,
it was to be a joy ride. You must
have known I wanted you, and
thought you were willing to give
yourself!"
"In marriage?" I whispered.
The man laughed loud and long.
Again he assayed to take me in his
arms.
"Stop!" I screamed. "Let meout
immediately!"
He looked at me in surprise.
"Do you really mean it? We are
at least three miles from home and
it is after 10 o'clock rou had bet
ter be good."
By this time I was hysterical and
Insisted upon leaving the car.
To do the man justice, he wanted
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