OCR Interpretation

The pioneer express. [volume] (Pembina, Dakota [N.D.]) 1883-1928, September 16, 1921, Image 2

Image and text provided by State Historical Society of North Dakota

Persistent link: https://chroniclingamerica.loc.gov/lccn/sn88076741/1921-09-16/ed-1/seq-2/

What is OCR?

Thumbnail for

tell me what to do?"
She was a miser with her treasure,
already she wanted to fly with it.
and to hfde it away, and lo test its
re ility in secret, alone. She had
ccine running in from the wonderland
down by the gate, just for this, just
to prove to herself that li would hot
Vanish in the commonplaceness of the
shabby hull, would not disappear be
fore the everyday contact of everyday
Dad was in the sitting room, with
tlvj girls. The doctor's house wus full
girls. Anne, his niece, was twenty
iour Alix, Cherry's sister, three years
younger—how staid and unmarried
and undeslred they seemed tonight to
panting and glowing and glorified
eighteen! Anne, with Alix's erratic
help, kept house for her uncle, and
waa supposed to keep a sharp eye on
Cherry, too. But she hadn't been
sharp enough to keep Martin Lloyd
from asking her to marry him, exulted
Cherry, as she stood breathless and
laughing in the dark hallway.
An older woman might have gone
up&tairs, to dream alone of her new
joy, but Cherry thought that it would
be "ftin" to Join the family, and "act
as if nothing had happened!" She
was only a child, after all.
Consciously or unconsciously, they
tiftd all tried to keep her a child, these
three who looked up to smile at her
as she came In. One of them, rosy,
gray-headed, magnificent at sixty, was
her father, whose favorite she knew
the was. Re held out his hand to her
wv'thout closing the book that was in
the other hand, and drew her to the
wide arm of his chair, where she set
tled herself with her soft young body
resting against him, her slim ankies
crossed, and her cheek dropped
against his thick silver hair.
Alix was reading, and dreamily
scratching her ankle as she read she
was a tall, avykward giri, younger far
at twenty-one than Cherry was at
eighteen, pretty in a gipsyish way', un
tidy as to hair, with round black eyes,
high, thin cheek-bones marked with
t-wrlet. and a wide, humorous mouth
!:v sonwbjw droll in its expres-
"No" she whiapired to herself, almost audibly, "no—it can't
be that! It can't be Cherry and Peter—Oh, my God! Oh, my
God. it has been that, ail the time, that, all the time—and I never
knfw it—I never dreamed it!
"It's Peter and Cherry! They have come to care for each
other—they hare come to care for each other," she said to herself,
her thoughts rushing and tumbling in mad confusion as she tested
and tried the new fear. "It must be so. But it can't be so!" Alix
interrupted herself in terror, "for what shall tie do—what shall we
do! Cherry in love with Peter. But Peter is my husband—he is
husband. Peter, who has always been so good to me—so
generous to me—and it was Cherry all the time.
"Poor Cherry!" tlus older sister said aloud. "Poor little old
Cherry—life hasn't been very kind to her! She and Peter must be
so sorry and ashamed about this! And Dad would be so sorry of
ail things he wanted most that Cherry should be happy! Perhaps,"
thought Alix, "he realized that she was that sort of a nature, she must
liwe and be loved, or she cannot live! But why did he let her marry
Martin, and why wasn't he here to keep me from marrying Peter?
What a mess—mess—mess we've made of it all!
"Cherry would be disgraced, and Martin—Martin would kill
her, if he found her out! Oh, my little sister! She would
be town talk she is so reckless, she would do anything—she would
be a public scandal, and the papers would have her pictures—Dad's
little yellow-headed Charity! Oh, Dad," she said, looking up into
the dark, "tell me whett to do! I need you so!
Indeeid, it is a "mess." For Alix is Cherry's older sister. And
Peter is Alix's husband. And Cherry is married to Martin. And Alix
loves both Peter and Cherry. And Martin and Cherry are drifting
apart. And Dad is dead and can't help any of them.
So Alix tries the#only way she can see out of the mess. It works
for her, but for the others the results are unexpected. But who shall
say not for the best?
Kathleen Norris, as everyone knows, is a California authoress
who has proved her ability to handle big stories like this. "Sisters"
is a good example of the type of stories that has given her so large
and friendly a public.
Cherry Strickland came In the door
ol the Strickland house, and shut It
taJiind her, and stood so, with her
huods behind her on the knob, and her
sl'»ader body leaning frrward, and her
buiom rising and falling on deep,
ecjtatlc breaths. It was May In Cali
fornia, she was just eighteen, and for
twienty-one minutes she had been en
gaged to be married.
4*he hardly knew why, after that
last farewell to Martin, she had run
so swiftly up the path, and why she
hail -flashed into the house, and closed
«th«» door with such noiseless haste,
'ifllre Wfts nothing to run for! But it
was as if she feared that the joy with
in her might escape into the moonlight
night that was so perfumed with
lilacs and the scent of wet woods. She
was afraid that it was all too won
derful to be true, that she would
•waken in the morning to find it only
a dream, that she would somehow fall
short of Martin's ideal—somehow fall
him—somehow turn aH this magic of
moonshine and kisses into ashes and
Alix fixed her bright, mischievous
eyes upon the two, and suspended her
reading for a moment. Alix's attitude
toward the opposite sex was one of
calm contempt, outwardly. But she
had made rather an exception of Mar
tin Lloyd, and had recently had a
conversation with him on the subject
of sensible, platonic friendships be
tween men and women. At the men
tion of his name she looked up, re
membering this talk with a little
His name had thrilled Anne, too, al
though she betrayed no.sign of it as
she sat quietly matching silks. In
fact, all three of the girls were quite
ready to fall in love with young Lloyd,
if two of them had not uctualiy done
Cherry had not been at home when
Martin first appeared in Mill Valley,
und the o'nier girls hud written her.
visiting frienus in Napa, that she must
come and meet the new man.
Martin was a mining engineer he
had been emrfoyed in a Nevada mine
but wus visiting his cousin in the val
ley now before going to anew position
in June, lo Its Informal fashion, Mill
Valley had entertained him he had
tramped to the big forest five miles
away with the Stricklands, and theit
had been a nicnlc to the mountain-top.

you somehow
sion even when she was angry or seri
Anne, smiling demurely over her
white sewing, was a small, prettily
made little woman, with silky hair
trimly'braided, and a rather pale,
small face with charming and regular
features. Anne had "admirers," too.
Cherry reflected, looking at her to
night, but neither she nor Alix had
ever been engaged—engaged—en
"Aren't you home early?" said Dr.
Strickland, rubbing his cheek against
his youngest daughter's cheek in
sleepy content. He was never quite
happy unless all three girls were in
his sight, but for this girl he had al
ways felt an especial protecting fond
ness. He had followed her exquisite
childhood with more than a father's
usual devotion, perhaps because she
really had been an exceptionally en
dearing child, perhaps because she had
been given him, a tiny crying thing in
a basket, to fill the great gap her
mother's going had left In his heart.
"Mr. Lloyd had to take the nine
o'clock train," Cherry answered her
father dreamily, "and he and Peter
walked home with me!" She did not
add that Peter had left them at his
own turning, a quarter of a mile away.
"I thought he wasn't going to be at
Mrs. North's for dinner," Anne ob
served quietly, in the silence. She
had been informally asked to the
Norths for dinner that evening her
self, and had declined for no other
reason than that attractive Martin
Lloyd was presumably not to be there.
"He wasn't," Cherry said. "He
thought he had to go to town at six. I
just stopped in to give them Dad's
message, and they teased me to stay.
You knew where I was, didn't you—
Dad?" she murmured.
"Mrs. North telephoned about six.
and said you were there, but she didn't
say that Mr. Lloyd was," Anne said,
with a faint hint of discontent In her
v^ fv-:h
everybody making the hard climb ex
cept Peter Joyce, who was a trifle
and perhaps a little laiy as'wet),
and who usually rode an old hoiSte.
with the lunch In saddle-bags at each
side. Alix formulated her theqrles of
platonic friendships on these walks
Anne dreamed a foolish, happy dream.
C.lrls did marry, men did take .wives
to themselves, dreamed Anne It
would be unspeakably sweet, but It
would be no miracle!
It was just after that mountain plc
nic that Cherry had come home on a
Sunday, as It chanced, that was her
eighteenth birthday, and on which
Martin and his aunt were coming to
dinner. Alix had marked the occasion
by weqgtng a loose velvet gown in
which she fancied herself Anne had
conscientiously decorated the table,
had seen to It that there1 was Ice
cream, and chicken, and all the acces
sories that make a Sunday dinner in
the country a national Institution.
Cherry had done nothing helpful:
On the contrary,, she had disgraced
herself and infuriated Hong by decid
ing to make fudge the last minute.
Hong had finally relegated her to the
laundry, and it was from this limbo
that Martin, laughing joyously, extri
cated her, when, sticky and repentant,
she had called for help. It was Mar
tin who untied the checked brown
apron, disentangling from the strings
the silky gold tendrils that were blow
ing over Cherry's white neck, and
Martin who opened the door for her
sugary fingers, and Martin who
watched the flying little figure out of
sight with a prolonged "Whew-w-w!"
of utter astonishment. The child was
a beauty.
Her eighteenth birthday! Martin
had been shown her birthday gifts
books and a silver belt buckle and a
gold pen and stationery and handker
chiefs. A day or two later she had
had another gift had opened the tiny
Shreve box with a sudden hammering
at her heart, with a presage of delight
She had found a silver-topped candy
jar, and the, card of Mr. John Martin
Lloyd, and under the name, in tiny
letters, the words "Oh, fudge!" The
girls laughed over this nonsense ap
preciatively, but there wa^ more than
laughter In Cherry's heart.
From that moment the world was
changed. Her father, her sister, her
cousin had second place, now. Cherry
had put out her Innocent little hand,
and had opened the gate, and had
passed through It into the world. That
hour was the beginning, and it had led
her surely, steadily, to the other hour
tonight when she had been kissed,
and had kissed in return.
"So—we walk home with young
men?" mused the doctor, smiling.
"Look' here, girls, this little Miss Muf
fet will be cutting you both out with
that young man, if you're not care
Alix, deep in her story, did not henr
him, but Anne smiled faintly, and
faintly frowned as she shook her
She Found a Silver-Topped Candy Jar
and the Card of' Mr. John Martin
head. She considered Cherry suffi
ciently precocious without Uncle .Lee's
ill-considered tolerance.
He would have had them always
children, this tender, simple, innocent
Dr. Strickland. He was in many
ways a child himself. He had never
made money in his profession he and
his wife and the two tiny girls had
had a hard enough struggle sometimes.
Anne and her own father had joined
the family eight years ago, in the
same year that the Strickland patent
fire extinguisher, over which the doc
tor had been puttering for years, had
been sold. It did not sell, as his
neighbors believed, for a million dol
lars, but for perhaps one-tenth of that
sum. It was enough, and more than
enough, whatever It was. After
Anne's father died it meant that the
doctor could live on In the brown
house wilder the redwoods,' with his
iris, ading fussing with a new In
dention, walking, consultii-g with
\nne, laughing tit Alix, and spoiling
his youngest-born
& 1hrH & $
if 0'* &
It was a perfect life for the old
It was only lately that he
uneasily to suspect that they would
some day want something more, that
they would some day tire of empty
forest and blowing mountain ridge,
and go away from the shadow of Mt.
Tamalpals, and into the world.
Anne, now—was she beginning to
fancy this young Lloyd? Dr. Strict
land was surprised with the fervor
with which he repudiated the thought
This young engineer, who had drifted
already into a dozen dlfferent^and dis
tant places, was not the man for staid
little Anne.
"What did you want to see Mr,
Lloyd about tomorrow, Dad?" Cherry
interrupted his thoughts to ask.
"The rose vine. What did he say
about coming over, Cherry?"
Cherry, remarked, betwee
ing yawns, that Mr. Lloyd was
over tomorrow at ten o'clock, and
Peter, too—
"Peter won't be much good!" All*
commented. Cherry looked at her re
"You're awfully mean to Peter, late
ly!" she protested. Her father gave
her a shrewd look, with his good-night
tflss, and immediately afterward both
the younger girls dragged their way
up to bed.
Alix and Cherry sheared a bare,
woody-smelling rgoin tucked away un
der brown eaves. The walls were of
raw pine, the latticed windows, in
bungalow fashion, opened into the
fragrant darkness of the night. The
beds were really bunks, and above her
bunk each girl had an extra berth, f«r
occasional guests. There was scant
prettiness In the room, and yet It was
full of purity and charm. The girls,
like all their neighbors, were hardy,
bred to cold baths, long walks, simple
hours, and simple food. In the soft
western climate they left their bed
room windows open the year round
they liked to wake to winter damp
and fog, and go downstairs with blue
finger-tips and chattering teeth, to
warm themselves with breakfast and
the fire.
Alix roUgd herself In a gray army
blanketij&lfll was asleep In some sixty
seconds.Cherry felt that r.he was
floating ti^feeas of new joy and utter
delight, and that she would never be
sleepy again.
Downstairs Anne and the doctor sat
staidly on, the man dreaming with a
knotted forehead, the girl sewing.
Presently she ran a needle through
her fine white work with seven tiny
stitches, folded It, and put her thimbln
Into a case that hung from her order
ly workbag with a long ribbon.
"Wait a minute, Anne," said the doc*
tor, as she straightened herself to rise.
"This young Lloyd, now—what da
you think of him?"
She widened demure blue eyes.
"Should you be sorry If I—liked
him, Uncle Lee?" she smiled.
The old man rumpled his silver hair
"That's the way the wind blows,
eh?" he asked kindly,
"Well—you see how much he's here!
You see the flowers and books and
notes. I'm not the sort of girl to wear
my heart on my sleeve," Anne, who
was fond of small conservattonal tags,
assured him merrily. "But there must
be some fire where there's so much
smoke!" she ended.
"You're not sure, my dear?" he
asked, after some thought.
"Oh, no!" she answered. "It's Just
a fancy that persists In coming and
going." She'' got to her feet, saying
brightly, "Well! we mustn't take this
too gravely—yet. It was only th^t I
wanted to be open and above-board
with you, uncle, from the beginning.
That's the only honest way."
"That's wise and right her uncle
answered, in the kindly, absent tone
he had used to them as children, a
tone he was apt to use to Anne when
she was In her highest mood, and one
she rtather resented.
"Cherry, now—" he asked, detaining
her t'or a moment. "She-^you don't
think that perhaps Peter admires
"Peter!" Anne echoed amazedly,
and stood thinking.
Peter was more than thirty years
old, thin, scholarly, something- of a
solitary, the sweet, (lreatny, affection
ate neighbor who had shared the girls'
lives for the past ten years. For some
reason she could not, or would not, de
fine, Anne liked the Idea ,of Cherry
and Peter fulling in love—
"Somehow one doesn't think of Pe
ter as marrying anyone—" she said
slowly, still trying to grasp the
"You darling—you little ex
quisite beauty I"
Cold Comfort.
The maiden of forty or so was up
set. Said she to a younger friend,'
"Krte talks so outrageously. Yester
a to I as no in
hopeless old maid."
'•That's pretty frank," exclniire#
Mer fiiend. "Still, It's better tlmn ha*
nx her teil lies about you."
Reporter Had Perceived Nothing to
Indicate That His Companion
Was a Man of Note.
Every one is entitled to one chuckle
In days like these, Just as every dog
Is entitled to one bite. Hence this
story of Sinclair Lewis, which is being
repeated with vicious enjoyment by
lot of the lowbrows.
It appears that Lewis was a guest
at a dinner not long ago at which a
number of newspaper men and other
low forms of life were present. The
guests were introduced to their hosts
in this fashion:
"Gentlemen—this is Mr. Smith, Mr.
Jones and Mr. Lewis."
Mr. Lewis sat next to a reporter.
The reporter talked of politics, the
next war. heat, Babe Ruth, the big
fight and other bourgeois things and
said uo word of literature.
Mr. Lewis became first uneasy and
then unhappy. When he could stand
it no longer he turned to his neighbor
with a gay laugh.
"Ha, ha!" said he. "You did not
when we were introduced think that
I was the fellow Sinclair Lewis, who
wrote 'Main Street,' did you?"
VNo," said the reporter.—Boston
Fate Had Been Unkind.
Ah old man appealed for charity
from passersbyj "Pity a poor old man
••vno has missed his calculation.'
The strangeness of his cry attracted
an old lady, who stopped the man and
nsked him what he meant.
"Madam," said he, "It's like this.
When I was young, I earned plenty
of money, and at fifty had saved a
good sum. I said to myself I should
only live to be seventy and what I
had would keep me comfortably till
then. Unfortunately, I missed my
calculation. I've lived to be seventy-
wo and my money is all gone."
The explanation seci.red him the gift
lis ingenuity deserved.
'Young Bargain Hunter.
Her mother took little Edna down
town the other day and as they walked
slowly, along they saw the sign in an
entrance, "Children half price."
"Oh, mamma," cried Edna, "do let's
go in and buy a. baby-now they're so
riieapi"—Boston Transcript
The Cutleura Toilet TrV&
Having cleared your skin keep It clear
by making Cutleura your every-day
toilet preparations.. The soap to cleanse
and purify, the Ointment to soothe and
heal, the Talcum to powder and per
fume. No toilet table is complete
.vlthout them. 25c everywhere.—Ad
Three Colors Enough.
Harold—Why doesn't Great Britain
ive more practical attention to dye
Clarice—Perhaps we don't feel the
iractlcal need of them. With a good
errfianeht red, white, and blue there's
io special occasion to worry about
nlcky variations.—London Answers.
Why meddle with others who don't
eddle with us?
permint flavored chew
ing aam.
Will aid your appetite
and digestion, polish
your teeth and moisten
your throat
Timely Warning.
One day early last spring the
ager of a baseball team lined up hi*
men and said: "All you fellows who
have been in vaudeville during the
winter, step forward."
Almost half the team advanced
from the line.
"Now, boys," he said to them. "1
want you to bear In mind one »Mng,
You are on the diamond, not on the
stage now, so when you make a hit
and the audience applauds it, dont
stop to bow on your way to Ural
base."—Boston Transcript
Waiter—Thank you very much, air.
Diner—What do you meant I
haven't given you anything.
Waiter—No, sir, but I bet a half
dollar that you wouldn't tip me.
Diner—Oh, you did, eh I Well here's
a nickel. Now you're out 45 cents*
and serves you right for your
founded impertinence.
An Imperfect Container.
"Her tears gave the thing away."
"Well, we might have known ft
would leak out."—Boston Transcript
A Business Woman.
Be had paid $30 for his
hat but was ashamed to
told his wife It ea* fe
"Oh, John," sne saia a rev doP&
afterward, as she greeted him on fe
arrival home. "I made such a spta|
did bargain today. There was an -M
clothes man here, and when he *1?
your new Panama he was foo.i#
enough to offer five dollars for
There are some things I need adv
tised in the paper and I want th|
two dollars all for myself."—N
York Sun.
Flubb Do you understand youl
Dubb—Not since I married heri
Figures cannot lie, but they are
pable of being juggled.
.•'• 'A' •.•: .s
A delicious
flavored suaar
jacket around pep­
toons, «*&, stops all un, saanns
Knewfa ell over the Northwwt for Qualify
films and.pbKo«Tt
piles. PlnlshHur 4 a
Amateuni, eaisrwif
Mail orders Solicit- .'.
S E a to 0 A O A I
MBNCR3rf.ST.isdBsNMS. 0IMa rCBKS. Ii,£
Trunks—Suit Cass?
Traveling Bags, WaMrsba Trnniu.
Sell the New and Repair the OK.
(or latest 1921 Prtee
W. N. U., FARGO, NO. 38--199*.

xml | txt