Newspaper Page Text
THE EVENING TELEGRAM, LAKELAND, FLA, TUESDAY, NOV. tt, 13 18 Irish Eyes IMI By HILDA MORRIS iCopTrtCbt, UU, by the McClure Newapa per Syndicate.) When Bob Ellison waa very young he had en Irish nurse. She was pretty colleen, that nursemaid, her big blue Irish eyes fringed with lashes as black as the glossy braids of hair. Little Bob Idolised his Maggie, and yean afterwards, when she was but a memory, the sight of blue eyes rimmed jwlth black would recall her dancing feet, her merry voice, her tales of S! obllns and the "wee folk."- He never oped to see Maggie again, of course, but he did hope, in some vague, sub conscious way, to meet eyes like hers, In a face like hers, sometime, some where. All of ns cherish Ideals whether we know It or not, and most of them have curious foundations. No 'one could have been more surprised than Bob Ellison at the suggestion 'that the Ideal of the girl he wished to marry was patterned after the be witching Maggie of his nursery days. Nevertheless, It was so. Bob went through school and college with none of the love entanglements from which his fellows suffered. There were girls, of course, some of them Very nice girls with whom he liked to dance and swim and occasionally flirt, "but none of them looked like Maggie. The Irish ones were red-haired, or (their eyes were brown, or they had too many freckles. It was not until Bob was twenty-sir years old and i decided "catch" that he saw a girl with Irish eyes and blue-black hair, a girl whom even Maggie might have envied. ' It was at a dance that be met her, n debutante affair to which his mother !had bade him go with particular in junctions to meet Miss Wayne, "the Miss Wayne of Boston." Bob's mother was not unaware of the fact that her son was clever enough and handsome enough to marry whom he would, and she liked to fancy an alliance with some old aristocratic family. After Bob had gone to the dance, his mother 'sat at home, picturing to herself a 'daughter-in-law, tall, dlstinguee, a little aloof and awe-lnsplrlng. As for Bob, however, he shook off his mother's Injunctions as soon as he had left the house. Miss Wayne of Boston, Indeed! He knew all about those Boston girls; he had had them for teachers. They were mostly thin and wore spectacles and liked to talk about the English essayists. He had no Intention of seeking an acquaint ance with Miss Wayne. And as soon as he reached the ball room he saw the girl with the Irish eyes. She wore blue, a misty floating blue that matched the blue of her eyes, and her sleek hair was black as the twinkling slippers on her trim little feet. Some one called her "Maggie Hose." Maggie-Rose, of all lilting Irish names I Some one introduced ' her to Bob and they danced off to gether. Maggie-Rose Flynn! He did not care who she was or where she came from, except that she seemed to have come from his land of dreams, his ishrlne of Ideals. She danced divinely, and when she spoke her voice was divine, too, a merry musical voice such as only Irish maids may have. 'She was his Maggie to the life, only far more lovely. But of this Bob was entirely unaware. He had forgotten Maggie; It was only her essence that survived to weave the fabric of his heart's Ideal. Maggie-Rose seemed to like him, too. They danced together a great deal that evening, they had supper to gether, they sat for a dreamy half hour In the conservatory. She talked a good deal, but Bob was not really conscious of much that she said; It was the sound of her voice that en chanted htm, the curve of her red Hps when she smiled, the blue of her eyes. If she told him anything about herself he was not aware of It, she remained to hlra a mysterious fulfillment of a long-cherished dream, a bewitching em bodiment of all that was most charm ing In women. Later some one else claimed her for a dance, and Bob watched her from the shelter of a doorway until some one reminded him that he ought to be dancing with another girl. Reluctant ly he turned away his eyes from the graceful form of Maggie-Rose, and the girl with whom he danced found him very silent and stupid and a very bad dancer; In fact, she said that be never would look where he was going, but insisted on gazing over the heads of people as if he were looking for some one, which seemed to her very rude. Afterwards he tried to find Maggie Rose, but she hod vanished. No graceful shape in floating blue ap peared on the ballroom floor, that Is, no shape that was graceful according to Bob's Idea. Maggie-Rose had ap parently disappeared as completely as If at the stroke of 12, her fairy god mother had changed her into another form. "What's become of that Miss Flynn, the one in blue V Bob asked several of his friends, but no one seemed to know. He hung about the place unttl almost the last puest bad departed, but there was no further sign of Maggie Hose. Stranger still, no one seemed to have even heard the name. "Flynn?" they would ask. "Why no, I don't remember meeting any Miss Flynn." Bob forebore to ask his busy hostess a clo-e friend of his mother's. Ha could do so later if be had to, but he resolved In the meantime to conduct his own search for Maggie-Rose Flynn. After Bob reached home that night he looked up all the Flynns in the di rectory and marked the ones he thought most likely to be related In some manner to Maggie-Rose. Next day he tried calling them up from a public telephone booth, in each case asking casually for Maggie-Rose, and In each case being misunderstood, ma ligned and disappointed. By mid afternoon he had ascertained that she did not belong to any of the Flynns listed In the directory of his native city. Perhaps she lived with an aunt, or perhaps horrible thought, she had left town, gone back to some faraway place which she honored by her resi dence There seemed but one thing to do go back to his hostess of the night before and ask for full particu lars regarding Miss Maggie-Rose Flynn, divulging, If need be, his rea son for wishing to know. Mrs. Banning herself was not at home that afternoon, but the debutante daughter was ; peals of laughter from the library told that she was enter taining some young people at tea. Perhaps she could tell him about Maggie-Rose. Perhaps But as he entered the door the first person Bob saw was Maggie-Rose her self, sitting by the fire, her blue eyes blue as the shlmmery frock she wore, her smile more bewitching than ever. ' "Why, Mr. Ellison;" exclaimed lit tle Miss Banning, much flattered by this visit "Do come In and have some tea with us. I suppose yon met Miss Wayne last night, didn't you? Maggie Rose has been telling me about some nice man who took her out to supper and from her description I couldn't think who It could possibly be but you. Now was It?" "It was," confessed Bob, "only I didn't know Maggie-Rose was Miss Wayne" "And I didn't catch your name, either," confessed Miss Wayne. "Wasn't it stupid? I thought all the time that your name was Murphy be cause you look like a boy I used to know, years ago, whose name was TImmy Murphy. He had brown eyes and a nose like yours'' "Good gracious, Maggie-Rose," broke in Miss Banning, "Mr. Ellison Isn't Irish 1" "Well, I am," declared Miss Wayne, making a charming moue, "that is one of my grandmothers was. For the rest I'm plain American but I'm glad of a little Irish to balance the Puritan part." "So am I" declared Bob Ellison de voutly. "I was wondering, Miss Maggie-Rose, whether you wouldn't like to take a walk in the park this afternoon, or some time " At dinner that evening Mrs. Ellison, who had permitted herself tp Indulge In dreams of daughters-in-law for sev eral hours during the day, asked her son what wis, to her, a burning ques tion. "Did you meet Miss Wayne last night, the one from Boston?" Her son looked slightly confused, as though roused suddenly from dreams of his own. "Eh? Oh, Maggie-Rose? Yes, I met her last night I meant to tell you " "Maggie-Rose! I mean did you meet Miss Margaret Roseborough Wayne, the Miss Wayne of Boston?" "I met her," he nodded." Her name's Maggie-Rose, and she's the sweetest girl in all the world, and we're going to be married. I was Just trying to tell you, mother." Cinemas In Strange Placet, In Moravia, the capital of the negro republic of Liberia, there is a elnema in the house of representatives. The pictures are shown on two evenings a week, and they are invariably attended by the president whose presidential chair Is set aside for him as a free seat The "picture" craze has reached the Arctic regions, for at Haparanra, S little township In the eitreme north Of Sweden, and Just on the Arctic circle, there Is a handsome little cinema, patronized by Laplanders. It is fre quently snowed up and unable to open. The South Sea islands, another In accessible part of the globe, have like wise succumbed to the lure of the "movies." In the Island of Tahiti there are no fewer than three cinemas. The South Sea Islander will sell his shirt or his girdle for the price of a ticket for the "pictures." Glass Blowing an Ancient Art The art of glass blowing is also very ancient and had an existence probably 4.000 years before Christ Th art nt blowing is plainly depicted upon the tumuli of Mastaba of Tib at Memphis, and these tombs were built more than C.OOO years ago. In the picture upon them the blower with tube In mouth, Just the same as the present day, Is seen squatted before his furnace, and irom me aetau ana perfection of knowledge of the art evidenced in the ancient pictures it Is readily seen that class blowing ras no npw thlnir with the people of that time and region. The glass bkower of that day made vases, beads, ornaments and bottles. Didn't Need Sympathy. "Look at the gray-haired office "boy.' Isn't he a pathetic sight?" "Oh, don't waste your sympathy on that old fellow. He's well satisfied with life." "How do you know he Is?" "I was talking to him the other day. In a burst of confidence he piped: 'By cracky, Tm sixty years old, and this Is the best paylu Job I ever had In my life." Birmingham Age-Herald. CONFESSIONS By AGNES G. BROQAN. Judith, In her pretty frock, sat at the piano and played enchantlngly. Douglas, back among the shadows, sighed as the tender words came to him. Something about: "When breeze of springtime blows the lilac blooms apart, The image of one's first love Is shaken on one's heart" "That's true," he murmured Invol untarljy. Judith swung around on the stool. I "Speaking from experience?" she teas-! ed, but the serious face of her fiancee j checked further raillery. "Dearest," he said, "come here. That pathetic little song has awakened mem ories; perhaps I owe you a confes sion. I was very Insistent you re member, probing into your girlish friendships, te make sure there had been no other love before me. Your more generous nature did not require that assurance. "What is it your song says, Judith? 'The Image of one's first love Is shaken on one's heart.' Well, the pitiful mem ory that stirs In my heart, but makes me love you more. Yet it Is there, every springtime, with the coming of the flowers. It was spring time when I met her, the girl who claimed my first youthful fancy. When I have told you of her, the ghost may be for ever laid, and flowers lose their power to shake this image on my heart" The man laughed shortly. "An nn-! easy conscience would be the more truthful explanation of my memories," he said. "I had just graduated from college, when father sent me over to France to learn that branch of our business. My duties brought me In touch with the peasant class, and there was among our workers a little maid, golden haired, with the ap pealing dark eyes of a child. She was very shy, Marie. "She lived farther up In the village, she told me, and aimlessly one eve ning I made my way to the cottage home. Hardly more than one room It was, and .spring flowers blooming all around. There was a white ruffled curtain In the window, and Marie's potted flowers nodding there, too. She wore a white muslin cap on her head, and her eyes would dance beneath its saucy fold, as I talked my stammering French." The man paused, again he sighed. "I thought it was love ;" he said. "Marie's invalid mother would call to us cheer ily from her couch as we sat side by side on the porch stone at twilight And one night, when the scent of flow ers, and the silvering moonlight seem ed to fill the world with magic, I asked Marie to be my wife. "Quick and tearful was her accept ance. "My son I' called the mother from her couch, and It was done. After that, I know not how, the romance fled. Evenings upon the porch stone, grew to be wearisome realities, Marie with her pretty tricks of expression but the amusing peasant girl of the workroom." Douglas paused; Judith, with a catch in her voice spoke. "And then?" "I came away," he answered slowly, "back to this country." "The French girl loved you?" Ju dith persisted. Across the man's eyes flashed a memory of Marie's oft-repeated assur ance. Impatiently he nodded his head. His fiancee arose wearily. "Yon left her to break her heart," she accused, "while you found happiness with me. Do you think I can keep you now, Doug las, with that always between us? Ob I" she turned on him fiercely, "did you send her no consoling message? Did you not try to learn what became of that poor little unhappy thing, with her sick mother?" "I wrote, her," the man answered doggedly, "saying that it had all been a mistake. Her response came, buti much was unintelligible to me." I Judith's lip curled scornfully. "If you still have that letter, may I see it?" she asked. "I will bring It to you," Dquglas promised. But his fiancee shook her j head. "Yon may mall it," she said. "I, do not wish to see you again until I, nave thought things out" j "You mean ?" he demanded, but, the girl eluded his outstretched arms, j The scent of spring flowers seemed nauseating, as he gloomily passed out ( through the garden, then In desperate resignation Douglas searched out the old French letter and mailed it I After a misery of waiting Judith summoned him by telephone. ' "Marie's letter," she began evenly. "appears also te be a confession. The little peasant girl was marrying you to benefit her invalid mother. The true love of her heart, a poor but honest Frenchman being 'desolated' thereby. Your departure afforded her , grateful relief, and so as she writes, 'All was well that ended well." Douglas spoke eagerly: "If Marie has nothing to forgive," he said, "can you decree my punishment?" "I have tried," the girl answered tremulously, "and cannot." i Judith, in her white frock, was, at the piano when he entered the room. ""When breeze of springtime blows (she sang) the lilac blooms apart, The Image of one's true love is shaken on one's heart.' "I have changed the wording. Doug las," she laughingly sold, and slipped Into his arms. (Copyright, ms, bj WMttro Newspaper Cnlga.) m The lakeland Evening Telegram The Lakeland News Lakeland's Oldest Newspaper No better medium is in reach of the mercha or business man to get before the public Florida and many adjoining states. F, VERY ISSUE OF THE EVENING TELEGRAM It A COM Ft , DIUM OP ALL THE NEWS, BOTH LOCAL AN POREIff - IN A CONCISE AND CONDENSED FORM, IT GIVES TK HAPPENINGS OF THE CITY OF LAKELAND AND SUHROUNDlJ COUNTRY WHEN IT HAPPENS. The only paper in Pol County taking Associate Press Dispatches or Tele graph of any kind, NEWS OF THE NATION 3E VERAL HOURS IN ADVANCEOF kt OTHER PAPER IN 80UTH FLORIDA. THE PAPER THAT FOR A GENERATION HAS TOLD T 8TORY OF LAKELAND, THAT HAS CHRONICLED Tt THEIR WEDDINGS- THE PAPER THAT EVER SINCE THE! WA8 A TOWN HAS BEEN INTERWOVEN IN rTS HISTORY. MORE PEOPLE HAVE BEEN BROUGHT TO LAKELAlj THROUGH READING THE LAKELAND NEW8 PERHAPS TH4 THROUGH ANY OTHER AGENCY. EVERY WEEK SOME HU DREDS OF COPIE8 GO OUT OF THE 8TATE, THE REMAIND OF IT8 LARGE CIRCULATION GOING TO THE NEIGHBOR TOWNS. AND VILLAGES, AND REACING PRACTICALLY EVE FARMER AND GROWER IN THE CENTRAL AND NORTH! PORTIONS OF POLK COUNTY. It is a splendid adverisin mediumso recognized K the big national advertised who use it regularly. IT 18 JU8T THE THING FOR THE PERSON WHO LIVES A DISTANCE, AND DESIRES TO KEEP IN TOUCH WITH T SECTION'S PROGRE83 AND HAPPENINGS. THE WEEKLY NEWS, ISSUED FROM THE TELEGRAM FICE HAS THE LARGEST SUBSCRIPTION OF ANY PAPER VICINITY, BEING DEVOTED TO THE INTEREST OF THE FA ER AND FRUIT GROWER. THEREBY GIVING ITS READERS THE BENEFITS OF TM BIRTH8 OF CHILDREN, OF WHOM LATER IT TOLD 4 X