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8 - '
By Ii M. Montgomery
fl-T'S PERFECTLY horrid to be so poor,
II grumbled Penelope. Penelope did not often
fJ grumble, but just now, as- she sat tapping with
one pink tipped finger her invitation to Blanche An
derson's party, she felt 'that grumbling was the only
relief she had.
Penelope was seventeen, and. when one is seventeen
and cannot go to a party because-one hasn't a suitable
dress to wear the world is ver apt to seem a howling
''I wish L could think of-some-, way to get these sis
ters called1' "the poverty pueker" coming in the centre
of her pretty forehead. "If yoorjblack skirt were
sponged and, pressed and re-bung it would do very
W Penelope saw the poverty pucker and immediately
repented with aB her impetoous heart for having
grumbled. That pucker came often enough without
being brought there by extra worries.
"Well, there is no use sitting here sighing for the
unattainable," she said, jumping' briskly up. I d bet
ter be putting my gray matter into that algebra in
stead of wasting it plotting for a party dress that I
certainly can't get. It's a sad thing- lor a body to
lack brains when she wants to be a teacher, isnt it?
If I could only absorb algebra. and history as I can
music, what a blessing, it wonkKbeL- Come, now, Dor
rie, dear, smooth that packer -out. Nesct year I shall
be earning a princely salary, which we can squander
on party gowns at will if peopleVhaveflt gwen up in
viting us by that time, in sheer ; despair of ever be
ing able to conquer our- exchisiveness."
Penelope went off to her .detested algebra with a
laugh, but the pucker did not oat- of Dons fore
head. She wanted Penelope go to that party.
"Penelope ' has studied' so hard all' winter and she
hasn't gone anywhere," thought, the .older sister, wist
fully. She is. getting discouraged, over those exam
inations, . and she needs just a good, jolly time to
hearten her up. If.it could. only be managed!
But Doris cid not see .howrit.cocfd. It took every
cent of her small , salary" as type liter in. an uptown
office to run their tiny establishment and keep Pene
lope in school-dresses and" books. Indeed, she could
not have done even that much if. they had not owned
their little cottage. Next year it would be easier if
Penelope got hrough her examinations J successfully,
but just now there was absolutely not, a spare penny.
"It is hard to be poor. We are' arpair of misfits,"
said Doris, with a patient little smile, thinking of Pen
elope's uncultivated talent -for mu6c and her own
housewifely gifts, which had malV chance of flowering
out in her business life.
Doris dreamed of pretty dresses all that night and
thought about them all the next i day. So. it must be
confessed, did Penelope, though' she',. would not have
admitted it for; the world.
When Doris" reached home the--, mext. evening she
found Penelope 'hovering ever' a bulky parcel on the
sitting-room, . table.
. "I'm so glad you've cormf, -she, said.- with, an exag
gerated gasp of-, relief. "I- reaUydonf think my curi
osity could have borne . the, strain for another five
minutes. The. expressman brought Jt'ESsioarcel an hour
ago, and there's a letter f oryouifrOOTf Aunt AdeHa on
the clock shelf, and I think they belong' to each, other.
Hurry up nd find" out. Dome, darling what if it
should be a a present of some, sort or other!"
1 "I suppose It can't be anything else," smiled Doris.
She knew that Penelope had, started out to say "a
new dress." She cut the strings and" removed the
wrappings. Both girls starad.
"Is it it isn't yes, it is I Doris Hunter, I be
lieve Ifs an old quilt 1"
Doris unfolded the odd present. wfth sv Queer feeling
tef disappointment. She aid not' know just what she
had expected the package to contain, but certainly not
this. She laughed a little shakily,
i "Well, we cant say after this thatAtmt Adella
never gave as anything," she said, when she had
opened her letter. "Listen, Penefope:
l " My Dear Doris : I have decided to give tip house
keeping and go out West to live with Robert. So I
am disposing of such ot the ' family heirlooms as I
do not -wish to take with . me. I am sending you by
express your Grandmother Hunter's silk qunt. It is
a handsome article still, and -1 ' hope ? yon will prize It
as you should. It took your grandmother five years
to make it. There is a bit ofthe wedding dress of
every member of the family ki it. Love to Penelope
" Ycur affectionate, aunt,
" 'Adella Hunter.'
i "I dont see its beatrty," said Penelope with a. grim
ace.' "It may have been pretty onee, but it is all faded
now. It is a monument "of - patience, though. The pat
tern is what they call Tittle-Thousands,' isn't it? Tell
me, Dorrie, does it argue a lack of proper respect for
my ancestors, that can't -feel 'very enthusiastic oVer
this heirloom especially when 'Grandmother Hunter
died years before I was bom?"
"It was very kind of Aunt AdeHa to send it,"
aid Doris dutifully.
"Oh, very," agreed Penelope,- droll y. "Only dont
ever ask me to- sleep under ft. It would give me the
nightmare. O o h I"
This last was a little squeal, ofe admiration as Doris
turned the quilt over and brought ; to view the shim
"Wby, the- wrong; sides. isrevr so much prettier than
the .right!" exclaimed Penelope. "What lovely, old
timey stuff f-. And not bit faded."
The lining was certainly - very pretty. It was a. soft,
creamy, yellow silk, with a design of brocaded pink
rose-buds all over it. . -
"That was a dress Grandmother Hunter ..had when
she was a girl," safd Doris ; absently. "I remember
hearing Aunt Adella speak of it. When it became old
fashioned 'grandmother used tt to. line her quilt I
declare, it is as good as new." .
WelL let us go and have tea," said Penelope. Tnx
decidedly hungry, besides, I see the poverty pucker
coming. Put the quilt in the spare room. It is some
thing to possess an heirloom, after all. It gives one a
nice, important-family feeling."
After tea, when Penelope was patiently grinding
away at her studies and thinking dolefully enough of
the near-approaching examinations, which she dreaded,
and of teaching, which she confidently expected to
hate, Doris went up to the tiny spare room to look at
the wrong side of the quilt again.
"It would make the loveliest party waist," she said
under her breath. "Creamy yellow .is Penelope's color,
and I could use that bit of old black lace and those
knots of velvet ribbon that I have to trim it. I won-
der if Grandmother Hunter's reproachful spirit will
forever haunt me if I do it."
Doris knew very well that she would do it had
known it ever since she had looked at that lovely lin
ing, and a vision of Penelope's face and red-brown
hair rising above a waist of quaint old silk had flashed
before her mental sight. That night, after Penelope
had gone to bed, Doris ripped the lining out of Grand
mother Hunter's silk quilt.
"If Aunt Adella saw me nowl" she laughed softly
to herself as she worked.
In the three following evenings, Doris made the
waist She thought it a wonderful bit of good luck
that Penelope went out each of the .evening to study
some especially difficult problems with a school chum.
"It will be such a nice surprise for her," the sister
Penelope was surprised as much as the tender, sis-,
terly heart could wish when Doris flashed out upon
her triumphantly on the evening of the party with
the black skirt nicely pressed and re-hung, and the
prettiest waist imaginable a waist that was a posi
tive "creation" of dainty rose-besprinkled silk, with a
girdle and knots of black velvet
"Doris Hunter, you, are a veritable little witch! Do
?'OU mean to tell me that you conjured that perfectly
oveh thing for me out of the lining of Grandmother
So Penelope went to Blanche's party and her dress
was the admiration of every girl there. Mrs. Fair
weather, who was visiting Mrs. Anderson, looked
closely at it also. She was a very sweet old lady with
silver hair, which she wore in delightful, old-fashioned
puffs, and she had very bright, dark eyes. Penelope
thought her altogether charming.
"She looks as if she had just stepped out of the
frame of some lovely old picture," she said to her
self. "I wish she belonged to mc. I'd just love to
have a grandmother like her. And I do wonder who
it is I've seen who looks so much like her."
A little later on the knowledge came to her suddenly,
and she thought t with inward surprise: "Why, it is
Doris, of course., Ifimy sister Doris lives to be sev
enty years okS, ..and wears her hair in pretty white
puffs- she will look exactly as Mrs. Fairweather does
Mrs. Fairweatlfer -asked to have Penelope introduced
to her and when-they found themselves alone together
"My dear, I am going to ask a very impertinent
question. . Will yon tell me where yon got the silk
of, which your wai3t;fa made?"
PooiVPeneiope's pretty young face turned crimson.
She. was not troubled. with-false pride by any means,'
but she simply couldJnot bring herself to tell Mrs.
Fairweather that, her waist was made out of the lin
ing of an old heirloom quilt
My AuSt Adella gave me gave u the material,"
she stammered. "And my elder sister Doris made
the waist for me, I think the silk once belonged to my
"What .waa yo-ir ' gran¬her's maiden name?"
asked Mrs. Fairweather eagerly.
"Penelope Saverne. I am named after her."
Mrs. Fairweather suddenly put ntVfcnrt aT5out "Pen-'
elope and drew the young girl to-her, her lovely old
face aglow with delight and 1 tentWtrese.
"Then you are my grandniece," she. said. "Your
grandmother was my v half-sister.. . When I saw your
dress I felt sure you were related to her. I should
recognize that rosebud silk' if I came across it in
Thibet Penetope Saverne was the' daughter of my
mother by her first husband. Penelope was four
years older than I was, but we were, devoted to each
other. Oddly enough, out birthdays fell. on the same
day and when Penelope was twenty and I sixteen my
father gave- us each a silk dress ot this very material.
I have mine, yet
"Soon, after this our mother died and our household
was broken up. PeneJope went to live with- her aunt
and I went West with father. This .was long ago,
you know, when traveling and correspondence were
not the easy, matter-of-course things they are now.
After a few years I lost touch with my half -sister.
I married out West and have lived there 'all my life.
I never knew what had become of Penelope. But -tonight
when I saw you come in in. that , waist made of -the
rosebud silk, the whole past rose before me, and
I felt Mke a girl again. My dear, I am a very lonely
old woman, with nobody belonging to me. Yon don't
know how delighted I am to find that I have two
Penelope had listened silently, like a jrirl in a-dream.
Now she patted Mrs. Fail-weather's soft old hand af
"It s ootids like a story-book " she said gayly! "Yon
must come and see Doris. She is such a darling sis
ter. I wouldn't have had this waist if it hadn't been
for her. I will tell yon the whole truth I don't mind
it now. Doris made my pretty waist for me out of
the lining of an old silk quilt of Grandmother Hun
ter's that Aunt Adella sent us."
, Mrs. Fairweather did go to see Doris the very next
day, and quite wonderful things came! to pass from
Viat interview. Doris and Penelope found their lives
and plans changed in -the twinkling of an eye, They
ISLAND ARGUS, TUESDAY,
were both to go ana LVe with Aunt Esther as Mrs.
Fairweather had seid they must call her. Penelope
was to have, at last, her longed-for musical "education
and Doris was to be the home girl
"You must take the place of my own dear little
gT an Jda tighter," said Aunt Esther. "She died six
Tears ago and I have been so lonely since."
When Mrs. Fairweather had gone Doris and Pen
elope looked at each other.
Pinch me, please," said Penelope. "I'm half afraid
HI wake up and find I have been dreaming. Isn't
it all wonderful, Doris Hunter ?"
Doris nodded radiantly.
"Oh, Penelope, think of itl Music for yon some
body to pet and fuss over for roe and such a dear,
sweet aunty for us both!"
"And no more contriving party waists out of old
silk linings," laughed Penelope. "But it was very for
tunate that you did it for once, sister mine. And no
more poverty puckers," she concluded.
By Ella Matthews Bangs.'
We talked of kings, little Ned and I,
As we sat in the firelight's glow;
Of Alfred the Great, in days gone by,
And his kingdom of long ago.
Of Norman William, who, brave and stern
His armies to victory led.
Then, after a pause: "At school we learn
Of another great man," said Ned.
"And this one was good to the oppressed,
He was gentle, and brave, and so s
By" Nancy Byrd Turner,
The day they cut the
The house was all
Such fuss they made,
He was a king the
Some wanted this, some wanted that; A
' Some thought that it was dreadful
To lay a hand upon one strand :
Of all that precious headfuh J'
While others said, to leave his curls
Would be the height of folly,
Unless they put him with the girls
And called him Sue or Molly.
,The barber's shears went snip-a-snip,
The golden fluff was flying;
Grandmother had a trembling lip,
And aunt was almost crying. -
The men-folks said, "Why, hello, Eoss,
You're looking five years older 1"
But mother laid the shaven head
Close, close against her shoulder.
Ah, well! the nest must lose its birds.
The cradle yield its treasure;
Time will not stay a single day
For any pleader's pleasure.
And when that hour's work was weighed.
The scales were even, maybe;
For father gained a little man '
When mother lost her baby! A
The Life History of Dicky-Doo.
By Emily Frances Smith
f9f HE miracle of life came upon him in one of
y j the miniature pyramids of Eastern Colorado, in
a city of the, tiny brown mound builders.
Dicky-Doo's first impressions were pleasing. He
had a bed as warm and soft as a rock. His room was
o large that he could turn over and stretch out in
it A nice thick curtain of darkness protected his
tender vision. He was a prey only to owls and rat
tlesnakes. His mother endeavored to supply him with
all the food he wanted, and he showed his apprecia
tion by wanting all she could supply.
Notwithstanding these natural advantages with the
advent of his wisdom teeth Dicky-Doo hungered for
the fruit of knowledge.
Very early one morning he wabbled from his sub
terranean retreat and discovered a new world. The
whip of the air on his nostrils, the sting of the light
in his eyes, terrified him and he tumbled back into
the earth, whimpering.
Dicky-Doo did not say one word to his mother
about this excursion, having resolved it should be his
last In a day or two the shock of his experience
changed fo wonder and it was not long until he again
grew venturesome and poked his nose through the
horizon of his sphere into that strange glittering space
beyond. His eyes were clearer and his muscles
stronger. He had new courage. He thrilled with
savage freedom, the pride and consciousness of hav
ing come into his own. He had yet to learn that
there were other prairie dogs. Happily for him, he
had never to learn that one of the fads of science was
APRIL 5, 1910.
HOOK AND EYES,
by Muriel E. Windham
fjf AMA," queried Tommy, with a mischief -loving
"Did I bear you say you wanted hooks and eyes?"
His mother laid her sewing down and searched her
basket throe gh
"Why yes," she said. "The very largest size."
. "Well, then," replied gay Tommy, while his smile grew
"The very largest size, as youH allow,
Is out there in the barnyard, all fastened hard and
The hoois end eyes that grow upon the cowl"
Wasn't he greater than all the rest?
Twas Abraham Lincoln, you know."
"Was Lincoln a king?" I asked him then,
And in waiting for his reply .
A long procession of noble men J
Seemed to pass in the firelight by. '
(When, "No," came slowly from little Ned,
And thoughtfully; then with a start, (
"He wasn't a king outside," he said,
"But I thnk he was in his heart." " -
you would have scid
Dicky-Doo stood erect and sniffed the ozone. How
sweet and gracious and satisfying the sense of sight
and smell and sound! Pitifully small, lean and pur
poseless, he stood in the center of his universe, a
wide, unending plain, broken only by the pyramids of
his people, occasional tall spears of gTass that came
above his ankles and great rocks that skipped in the
light morning breeze. Far into the background of
his infinite distance. Pike's Peak vas faintly etched.
As Dicky-Doo slowly measured his possessions, he
beheld a moving glory in the east A red crescent
loomed out of the earth and grew into a flaming
chariot that rode serenely in the heavens. Dicky Doo
supposed it had business with him and spoke to it.
What answer it made, if any, was lost in a great vol
ume of noise from the north. He swung around and
saw a long, dark, shrieking, gaseous thing bounding
toward him. Odd living creatures were its cargo
and they had iron cylinders that popped, popped, driv
ing the prairie sentinels in confusion to their homes.
Dicky-Doo received a shot in one arm and, intensely
suffering, sought cover. He was disallusioned.
The wound healed, leaving him a cripple. It was
long ere he ventured far from his temple, but the
time came when he heard in the wind's lonely call
a challenge to the open. It was evening and the sun
was making up his bed. Over the earth he spread a
sheet of burnished brass. He nestled in his tinted
draperies, pulled the blue canopy of the sky close in
and pinned it with a liny star.
Dicky-Doo trailing his wounded arm, visited dif
. en.t parts of his city, stopping anon to play with
his kindred, often throwing himself upright with short,
quick barks as if menacing an approaching foe.
A lonely horseman rode across the prairie. His
body swayed wearily forward. There was weariness,
too, in the pony's long, loose strides. A pair of saddle-bags
flapped dismally. Suddenly the man straight
ened to the hunter's attitude of interest, lifting his
gtm. Dicky-Doo, alert, saucily barking, had caught
his attention. The gun was lowered as the wee gray
Panting, frightened, Dicky-Doo was soon strug
gling in the gentle grasp of his pursuer. Deep-set
steady blue eyes were looking into his and a voice
with soothing in it babbled baby talli He was fas
tened in the pocket of his captor's riding jacket and
thence transferred to a cage.
He was fed and petted until his distrust of humas
kind merged into affection. In a few weeks he started
on another journey in the pocket of his friend. Whils
he cuddled there and slept, the prairie slid to the
west Low hills and larger vegetation approached;
then bloom and fruit and cultivated areas and finally
he landed in Eastern Kansas, in a white farmhouse,
where his welcome was scarcely less enthusiastic than
that accorded his friend.
So he first knew and loved Dollie, the small queen
- ofvhis realm. She caressed him into familiarity with
his surroundings and permitted him the range of the
house. The first time he saw an outside door open he
He ambled off the kitchen porch, crouched, and
shook himself; 6tood up and barked; sniffed, and
scurried across the yard. Little chickens fled and a
hen picked at him. The sun shone pleasantly upon
him and he lay down on his back and stretched
Though half asleep and blissfully without feir, he
became conscious that he was watched. A sinuous
animal in a black satin coat and with gleaming yellow
eyes was making a tentative advance. It was Mrs.
Cat and she had never felt more in the humor to
catch a rat nor had so many qualms about undertak
ing it Dicky-Doo, whom she had sighted, had the
color and general appearance of a rodent, save that
his tail was short and flat and his head combined the
nose of a dog with the eyes and forehead of a snake.
Mrs. Cat, her bristles working and her eyes big.i
""walked as if upon hot coals. She veered sidewise as'
she neared him. He showed no intention to retreat,
and she sprang at him, taking care to light at a safe
distance. Still Dicky-Doo sat there, apparently curi
ous as to what she would do next, switching his tail
"Rat," she seemed to say. ,
"Cat" he appeared to retort.
"Rattle!" her attitude insinuated.
"Cattle!" his steady glance replied.
Mrs. Cat, emboldened, came near and slapped at
him. Forthwith Dicky-Doo sprang at her, talking rat
tlesnake, and Mrs. Cat tumbled over herself and did
not stop running until she reached the top of a tree.
She stayed there until Dickv-Doo's foster-mamma.
loving him up to her face, carried him into the house,
where she fed 'him- all the bread and milk h would
eat then laid him on his back and fed him with" a
spoon until he choked.
Mrs. Cat was not the only person on the farm who
had to be educated to let Dicky-Doo alone. Ever in
his presence she sat near a tree and looked anxious
yet nobody took the hint Clumsy old hens on the
alert for club material found in Dicky-Doo surprises
which startled them clear over the fence whence
they hit the high places due opposite, discoursing
volubly. Pigs nosed around him and ran squealing
the information that he was a rattlesnake wrapped ia
a bear robe and had tusks like a walrus. Jack, the
sttcr at s'8bt of Dicky-Doo, pinned back his ears
and flew at him, but stopped short, for the strange
animal stood up like a man and barked like a dog.
Jack flattened on the ground. The fearless prairie
dog started toward him, chattering, and Jack imme
diately remembered a rabbit hole in the woodpile,
and made haste to try to crawl into it. Afterward,
he showed his contempt for the interloper by do
ing his talking from under the house.
Through the summer, Dicky-Doo was the pet and
pride of the household. He dug holes on the lawn
and had a miniature prairie-dog town of his own, of
? ! j Was, ma'or- When strangers approached, he
bobbed out of a hole, barking savagely, and as quickly
disappeared. Jack suffered extreme mortification lest
that hlhputian bark be mistaken for his own. and
echoed it in a deep bass.
A certain dark corner in the cellar Dicky-Doo pre
empted for hibernating purposes, and during a storm
period would roll his body into a ball and sleep for
two or three days. lie frequented the sewine-room
and carried scraps, a mouthful at a time, to his den.
tie would sometimes waddle down the steps, drag
ging a bundle larger than himself. A nv unit rhnirm
bit of zephyr or cotton he did not hesitate to aooro-
priate for his cellar bed.
lie was a vitalized Larnmi,r
r 1 1 uajr or two DC-
lore there were storm indications he would address
nis efforts to pulverizing and packinz dirt. Scratrh-
A day or two be-
L-2 Pr a softJmou,Kl of earth, he braced against his
bind feet and beat it with his nose, throwing his
weight against it with the short, quick taps of a
hammer until it was firmly packed.
His particular dissipation was dessicated cocoanut
ine odor of it mildly unprairie-dogged him and he
would cry for it as coaxingly as ever did a child for
He gloried in artificial heat and would lie under
the stove until his hair scorched, twitching and com
plaining, apparently lacking intelligence to move
He had very tender talk for Dollie. and when ma
licious outside influences separated them temporarily,
fie welcomed her return with ecstacy and told her
about it in as many words as possible. Indeed, he
ought to have loved her, for many summer after
noons she brought her work into the hot area of his
Playground and watched lest harm befall him He
was fond of being scratched and would yield de
lightedly to caresses. stretching his mouth, if hot
rv i aT!miIc- ,nto the physical semblance of one. As
IJicky-Doo did his smiling when he was particularly
pleased, there is no reason to doubt cerebral excita
tion of his risibles.
wJnfr" f D.icky-Doo's summer was the dar he
went to Tonganoxie to have his picture taken That
was an act of vanity which he wholly disapproved and
with expressions of disgust he refused to 4 still and
look pleasant. Not until he wa, wheedled with a
fntCf-.e ?hich he had to stand P to eaj hold!
mg it with both paws, could a snap shot be secured It
was determined to get a better view of him and he
was coaxed with all of Dollie's arts. In vain He
ronlTV funous'"safe to touch, and no picture
could be secured until he unwittingly rolled on hi,
back and stuck h ect otJt ,;kc - dn
he saH VrZlfh 'I' thC PUrp- Frtnatc!y. wh3a
ne said in rattlesnake was not reproduced
As the fall season advanced Dicky-Doo reached a
period of autocracy, amusing a, it was hardou.
He assumed the aggressive, and had no trouble
SThe men Tr IIe fCrcd an 'version
to the men of his family and vie ously attacked
except Dohie. refused to take food or allow car
esses from any hand but hers, and there was con
8 "Jlfi a,PCrchcns,on that he might bite her when she
coddled h.m. Before this catastrophe occurred. Dicky!
Doo was overcome by tlie fete of all stupids who do
not carry accident insurance; he get killed. Once to
EE hU n J1" b' through the
- tuning in a icw nours.
n ucrn excavation wa mH .1. ... i ,
manf fu- ,t. " " ' 'V . V M'c 5nae OI
1- - V VJ
- lasMi, covered witn Hn..
jr.. nHed. markedT and two 'real mourner,'
th:C.h"d'.cJ,,mb a tree. and h mother long c
- siiKii. i-iiiwcr inr maple ! Still 3-r.,l - A
gcomion Day "STiSk
...wi a pnnceiy casket, I:neI it with b ue satin and
decorated it with sprigs of cedar. As he lay in , tat?
many tears were shed over his stiff little figure
ext dav he wa hii ri4 tP...
a j. . oenitmg nn