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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, January 10, 1914, NOON EDITION, Image 15

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Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1914-01-10/ed-1/seq-15/

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Chapter XLVIII.
Dick has gone on a trip and I am
utterly disconsolate.
Last night when he came home and
told me he was going away for a few
days I concluded I would be glad to
have him out of town while 'I was
getting our. rooms into shape.
But today, after I knew he had left
the city, I seemed to have lost all
ambition to do anything. For the
first time in my life I knew the mean
ing of the word loneliness.
The decorators have finished with
our rooms and the soft gray-green of
the Japanese matting is a lively back
ground for my Japanese prints and
beautifully colored etchings.
The rug for .which I exchanged so
many' duplicate wedding' gifts is a
beautiful Bqkhaver, and my chairs
and roomy empire sofa with its head
up to the window so one can lie down
and read are all artistic, comfortable
and inviting;
For the first time in my life I have
indulged my taste in housefurnishing
and I am sure that Dick will be
pleased with it.
On the wood mantle I have placed
a bit of wood carving which I have
had done as a surprise to Dick. It
reads: "A little place called paradise.
God grant that the serpent does not
find his way in."
The whole living room is charming
and I know Dick will like- it and I am
sure he will see the difference be
tween this quiet, restful place and the
garish and tasteless "drawingroom"
at his mother's house.
Dick laughingly told me when I
was fussing about getting the
furnishings of these rooms that I was
like all other women and allowed "lit
tle things" to dominate my life.
. It is true that it is the big things
that draw us up to heaven or crush
us down" to hell, but little things live
beside us on this earth eat and sleep
with us laugh and grumble with us
irritate and appease us. Little
things, like the poor, are always with
vus. We love little things, we hate
little things, we fear little things from
the day we are born to the day we die.
It's the little things that count, and
because women have learned this and
men ignore it is one of the great rea
sons of marital unhappiness.
Just now "the little thing" of Dick's
being away makes my "little place
called Paradise" a region of lone
someness and desolation. It seems
as though it might feel, to paraphrase
a popular song, "all dressed up and
no one to see," and I am determined
that no one. shall see it until Dick
comes back.
Today Molly telephoned me that
she and her mother were coming over
and I said: "Please don't come till
Dick comes back, as then our new
rooms will be all ready."
Molly, bless her heart, understood
without me saying more, for she said:
"I know what you mean but which
you don't say. You don't want any
one to see those rooms until after
Dick sees them. I'll head mother off."
"Molly, you are a little brick," I
told her. "I sometimes wonder how a
girl like you can know so much about
the 'whys and wherefores' in the lives
of men and women."
Back over the wire came this in a
voice that was either choked with
laughter or tears I could not tell
"Some day, Margie, I'll tell you of
how and when I learned it."
Molly continually surprises me.
Some day, when she knows me bet
ter, she is going to volunteer some
interesting confidences.
(To Be Continued Monday.)
o o .,
General sympathy must go out to
that Georgia escaped convict who
sold two of the bloodhounds put on
his trail and then got caught because
he offered the third at too low a price.

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