OCR Interpretation

The day book. (Chicago, Ill.) 1911-1917, April 04, 1917, LAST EDITION, Image 19

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

Persistent link: http://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn83045487/1917-04-04/ed-2/seq-19/

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tersely advised Nell Ward, chamber
maid. "It's tea you want and it's tea
you'll get Aren't you ashamed of
yourself, a healthy, decent-looking
young man, playing the fool to a lot
of vultures?" N
Dan wretchedly turned over in his
bed and groaned. He was helpless,
until the tea had warmed him up
sufficiently to give him the nerve to
get down stairs and steady his criss
cross nerves at the hotel bar.
"Daughter of yours?" he inciden
tally question the landlord.
"Oh, no," was the indifferent re
sponce. "She's only Nell looking
for a steady home. Good as gold as
a' worker, but don't fit in here,"
Twice Nell was called by bootheel
and twice Nell ministered to the
wants of downhill-headed Dan Wol
sey. Always she mixed in a lecture,
advice, deprecation and undisguised
contempt for his lack of will and his
recklessness. Dan sheepishly kept
away from the maiden with the
sharp tongue when sober. When oth
erwise, in maudlin way and weeping,
he would tell his boon companion
pathetically of the "good little friend
up at the hotel who made him
ashamed of himself."
"Cleaned out!" almost shouted
Dan one morning when he got ready
to start on a new day of his blowout.
He stared dumbly at the belt ho
had removed from under the carpet.
It was empty. Dan rubbed his head
grevsomely. He had-a-dim memory
of a wild bout at cards the night be
fore, of coming staggeringly .to his
room in the evening for a new sup
ply of ready cash.
"Must have taken it -all, and I am
stranded," he muttered. Then he
went down to the Dewdrop Inn and
told its sordid proprietor of the slt
uation and asked for the loan of $10
to get back to Oreville. The man
laughed at him.
"Don't know you," he growled.
"Get out!"
"Don't know me?" echoed Dan.
"Don't know 'The Daisy'?"
"You may have been one yester
day," remarked the ginmill man cru-
elly, "but you're a faded flower to-,
day," and there were some words
and the poor wreck of Dan Wolsey
was thrown out into the street into
a mud puddle.
That afternoon late, very sober,
very penitent, Dan sat on a log by the
roadside at the limits of the town. He
had found no friends in his distress.
He had started to walk to Wellsville,
but was stiff, sore, trembling, half ill.
A girl driving a light wagon came
down the road. "Whoa!" and she
jumped out and approached Dan.
"Know me?" she asked curtly, and
he looked up, shook his head dismal
ly and groaned out: "Yes, you're
"And I'm driving over to Wellsville,
where you live," she observeO", "and,
if you're minded to go back there
and drop your wretched antics and
sign the pledge and be respectable
again I'll give you a lift."
"Say try me!" voiced Dan, with
eager unction. "Oh, I've had my
lesson! You good little fairy! I want
to cry' when I think of the good ad
vice you gave me, never heeded."
"You lie down there," directed
Nell, with the severity of some chid
ing mother, and she pointed to.a nest
of blankets in the box of the wagon,
"and here's a bottle of spruce beer
with some quieting medicine in it.
Take a sip only now and then and
when you get home forget Oreville
"You bet! You bet!" muttered Dan,
and wondered how it was that the
good little fairy had come along so
fully prepared to tender him comfort
and peace for his shattered nerves,
for after a sip or two from the bot
tle he fell into a peaceful sleep like a
tired little child.
He was meek and obedient when
they reached Wellsville. He was sub
missive and unresisting when Nell
took him into the office of the local
justice of the peace and witnessed
his signature to a temperance pledge.

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