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Newspaper Page Text
LOVE IN THE MIST
i By George Elmer Cobb.
(Copyright by W.-G. Chapman.)
"A birthday once in four years and
ioth born on the same day?" observ
ed Mr. Dawson, guest of his old
school friend, Abel Whitman, whom
he had not before seen for nearly a
quarter of a century.
"Yes, Myra and Lucile are twins. I
need, not tell you Tiow I love them
and how prbud I am of them."
"You have reason to be, my dear
friend. I shall be very glad to meet
They Were Alike as Two Roses on
the Same Stem.
the young ladies at their birthday
party tomorrow evening."
Mr. Whitman went on his way
mindful of the daughters born in leap
year eighteen years- agone. They
were as alike as two roses ori the
same stem. They had known no
mother since their infancy, and yet
they had arrived-' at the threshold of
womanhood model daughters and
Only one thing troubled Mr. Whit
man as to the future of Myra and Lu
cile. It began to look as though they
would never marry. From early
childhood they had never been sepa
rated for so much as a single night.
Their, tastes and preferences were
similar. When one smiled, the other
responded. When Myra was moved
to sadness, the sympathizing tears of
Lucile came into evidence. A sort of
delicate telepathy influenced these
gentle spirits when apart at any dis--tance,
if even for a brief period of
As they grew up, what one had she
was not satisfied until her beloved
second self possessed its duplicate.
Dresses, ornaments, pets there
must be a natural ownership or one
or both became unhappy.
Two such charming spirits could
not fail to become socially popular.
For all that, they gave little encour
agement to the young men attracted
by their beauty, their social position
and' the fact that the indulgent fath
er was of independent means.
There was always some special er
rand they had for father each day
that he went to business. It was a de
light to him to perform these little
services for the loved ones at home.
That morning when he kissed .the
young ladies goodbye he had asked
them, what espe.cial gifts he should
bring for the coming birthday.
"Just a bouquet of flowers, papa,"
Myra had said sweetly, and Lucile
echoed the request
"Any special kind?" he asked, with
a mental reservation as to a hand
some ring he had already selected for.
each of them.
"Oh, yes," smiled Myra, "we want
some -Love in the Mist. Ever since we
first saw Aunt Hespah's pretty coun
try garden, we have felt lonesome
because the flowers we brought home
with us faded too soon. They remind-
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