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Newspaper Page Text
" By John Elkins
"My goodness! Margaret! When
will you ever stop giving money to
Mrs. Tyson's tone was not only re
monstrance, it savored of exaspera
tion. "But, mother," temporized the girl,
"it was only a nickel."
"Yes, but when I'm trying to save
five cents on a pair of stockings it
does seem as though you might
think of me instead of throwing out
money to every beggar you meet.
But you're just like your father. If
ever you get down to 'New York,
where you are so crazy to go, you'll
be held up by tramps on every block
and the first thing you know you
won't have enough money to buy a
Margaret sighed a bit resignedly.
There was no use trying to stem the
tide of her mother's wrath till it
stopped. Presently she said:
'It isn't New York so much it is
what it offers. I can study art there
evenings and earn my living during
the day that's what I mean to do."
"Well, not with my consent. Here
you are making about as much as
any girl in town, in a good, steady
position, and you are not satisfied."
"No, I'm not," answered Margaret.
"I'm getting $9 a week and "
"And you wouldn't get that as a
typist in New York, and you'd have
to pay out evfery cent for board."
"Yes, but you're going with me and
keep the little home down there,"
"No," persisted the otlyer finnly.
'I've seen your father starve painting
pictures and watched him die of dis
appointment. I'm no't going through
i seemed to be something
iiL.ai m these last words and the girl
felt it vould be useless to urge the
matter any further. She could not
leave her mother, as she was her
sole support. But she could not give
up her dream. Some time it -must
come true. After a while she said:
"But all artists don't starve. There's
your cousin, Alton Paber, they say
he's rich. -May be he would "help me
"No, he wouldn't," snapped Mrs.
Tyson "Why dfdn't he help your
father? Cousins aren't any good."
So Margaret said no more: She
went faithfully tp her daily grind and
spent her spare time sketching ev-
"Who Did That?" He Asked
erything she saw without instruction
of any kind.,
One day after she had returned
from her work a man came to the
door asking for something to eat He
was an elderly-man, cleanand re
spectable looking, and Margaret's
sympathy was aroused.
"I'm Bony," she said. "I haven't
any change, but 1 can give you some
bread or something."
He thanked her and glanced
around the kitchen of the little home,
as he stood at the open door.
"May I sit down minute?" he
asked. "I am,very tired."