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The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, February 27, 1915, LAST EDITION, Image 20

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

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1915-02-27/ed-1/seq-20/

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By H. M. Egbert
"Lizzie! What do you think! A let
ter has come from our soldier!" ex
claimed little Miss MaryPenfleld, al
most dancing if such a term could
be applied to such a dignified person
as Miss Mary was into the living
"Your soldier, my dear Mary!" an
swered her elder sister, raising one
finger reprovingly.
The Misses Penfield were quite well
to do and quite alone in the world.
Miss Lizzie was forty, if she was a
day. Miss Mary confessed to thirty
two, but even the sweetest of women
may be pardoned for deducting a
year or so after passing the thirtieth
mile-stone. They were the only
daughters, the only children of
VSquare" Penfield of Bodminton,
New England. Once the family had
played a prominent part in New Eng
land's public life; hut with the growth
of the industrial system and the fad
ing out of the old ways of life they
Jiad become more and more isolated.
After their father's death they were
more or less "hermits," as Miss Mary
ruefully declared.
All the village respected the two
maiden ladies, but somehow they
seemed an anachronism, a survival of
other times in the hustling commer
cial times of the twentieth century.
Two months before Miss Mary,
who subscribed to an English news
paper contained a good deal of
literary matter, had seen an adver
tisement. It stated that one shilling, or a
quarter, would purchase a pound of
tobacco, a box of matches and 50
cigarettes for one soldier in the
Frenches in Belgium. The sender's
name was to be placed upon the pack
age. "I'd like to send a shilling for one
of the poor fellows," said Miss Mary.
"But wouldn't it be a little for-1
ward, my dear?" inquired prudent
Miss Lizzie.
"Not in time" of "war, dear' an
swered Miss Mary.
With many searchings of heart the
ladies embarked on their daring en
terprise, and in due course a box went
forward to the allies' trenches bear
ing the iiftme of Miss Mary Penfield
upon the-cover.
And -now a letter ahd come. It was
marked with a red-sign: "Opened un-
"How Can You Say Such a Dreadful
Thing?" )
der martial law," which alone sent a
delightful thrill down the" two ladies'
backs. They opened the envelope
with shaking fingers and read:
"My Dear Miss Penfield- I write to
thank you very much for your de
lightful gift. Yqu cannot imagine
what pleasure such -a thing gives us

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