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Page 14 text:
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12 THE PILGRIM afternoon when the Bixbys came. Well, we did get here anyway! they chorused gleefully. Yes, I see, murmured Mrs. Clayton. Then you - didn't write ? Why, no. We weren't to, if we could come, you know. Yes- er -I mean no, stam- mered the hostess. After the hastily prepared meal was over, Mr. Clayton and his eld- er son and daughter met in a se- cluded corner of the library. Now whose letter do you sup- pose it was? began Jimmy. Mine, groaned the father. I know it's mine-and it means hun- dreds of dollars to me. Why father! exclaimed the other two in unison. Yes, it does. Dennison was go- ing to drop me a line here if cer- tain things happened. And if they have happened, and I don't sell my Marconi before to-morrow noon, i1,'ll mean-well, there'll be the dickens to pay. On the other hand, if those things havenit happened, and I do sell - it'll be worse. Both Ethel and Jimmy assured him it must have been the letter and went off, feeling easier in their minds. On Thursday morning, the maid brought in the mail and left it at her master's plate. One for you, Julia, he began, and-by Jove, here's Dennison's letter, he finished joyfully. Twenty minutes later, with head erect and shoulders back, he could be seen hurrying down the street. Behind him, on the porch steps, were a young man and a young girl looking at each other in blank dis- may. . You said you were expecting a letter, didn't you? began Ethel hopefully. Well, so were you, weren't you ? Yes, but-- Well, don't you think it's yours? - It might be, but- You said you thought it was yours, the first thing. Yes, I know, but,-well, per- haps it is. ' Of course it is, asserted James as he ran down the steps, leaving Ethel looking after him in vague wonder. That noon the mail brought three letters, all of which Ethel pocketed. I know which one I'll read first, she said as she hurried to her room. That night Jimmy refused to come to dinner, saying he did not feel well. Yet, later that evening, after a sharp peal of the door bell and a knock at his door, he left the house, and one who saw him then would not say he looked like a sick man. a The next morning Ethel rushed headlong into the dining-room. Oh, Jimmy! she cried. It was your letter the dog hadg here it is! But it wasn't, replied the young man. I got it last night- special delivery. Yes, it is. Teddy found it in a hole under the barn. See! Well, it is for me, muttered Jimmy as he saw his own name among the marks left by the dirty paws and sharp teeth. Humph! he ejaculated as he looked at the paper which the envelope had con- tained. What is it? asked the rest of the family. It's an advertising letter from the Reynolds' kennels. Do you think we-er-need another dog? F. OTTEN '25
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Page 13 text:
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THE PILGRIM 11 sipped again-rather musically. I didn't know whether to laugh -or cry. My blonde, curly- headed hero! I became angry at last and when I heard another long sip followed by a guffaw I rose and ran out with tears in my eyes. If Jean knew why that person had laughed, he'd have broken his back. He followed me out, but I was angry and rode home in silence. On reaching home I threw my- self on my bed and cried, then laughed, and cried again. I'm afraid blonde curls don't make a man, and no matter how deftly he may drink tea he cannot necessarily have blonde curls. Anyway -I'm still a spinster. D. W. SUTHERLAND '27 THE LETTER Tuesday noon the postman handed a letter to little Teddy. As Teddy started for the door, Rover came up, and Rover wanted to play. The next minute the letter was disappearing around the cor- ner of the house, held fast in the jaws of a small dog. A few minutes later Teddy was telling the family, who had gath- ered in the dining-room, of the loss. Whose letter was it ? they asked. I don't know. I didn't see the address, Teddy replied. It is probably that note from the Bixbys, Mrs. Clayton said. They were going to write me if they couldn't come, but I wish I knew what they said. It might have been for me, cut in Ethel. Ethel was eighteen, exceedingly pretty, and had numer- ous admirers. Well, I was looking for a letter, too, said James, the older son. You weren't expecting a letter, were you, Charles ? Mrs. Clayton asked her husband. Yes, I was, and it was a very important one, was the answer. After luncheon every one joined in the hunt for Rover. They looked everywhere and finally found him, asleep in the barn, but there was no trace of the letter. Oh, if only dogs could talk, moaned Mrs. Clayton, as unable to sleep, she lay on her bed. I won- der where that letter is. But it must be from the Bixbysg I'm go- ing to think so anyway, she said resolutely. If that should be Dennison's letter, mused Mr. Clayton as he locked up the house. If that should be, and I know it must! I suppose it serves me right for tell- ng him to write to me at the house instead of at the office. Oh, if that letter should be an invitation from Fred! thought Ethel in her room. And I'd so much rather go to the dance with him. I wonder where Rover could have put it. Jimmy was also thinking aloud in his room. What if it were May's letter after all? How fool- ish I was to tell her that if I didn't hear by Thursday night, I'd under- stand it was 'no'! She may have written and be expecting me and I wouldn't even know it! Next morning Mrs. Clayton broke the silence at the breakfast. table by saying, I don't think I'll do much to get ready for the Bix- bys. I'm so sure the letter was from them! Do you mean it? asked her husband, brightening. Are you positive ? Yes, really positive. They said all the time they didn't think they could come, and that I should probably get their letter saying so. The others became much more cheerful at that news. It was about five o'clock that
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Page 15 text:
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THE PILGRIM 13 THESE LANDLUBBERS My friend looked at me dubious- ly and then turned to survey the canoe which was drawn up on the beach. You're sure you can paddle that thing? she asked. You can't have had much experience if you bought it only three days ago. Sure, I know all about canoes, I lied cheerfully. All you have to do is sit still and nothing can pos- sibly happen. Still looking rather doubtful, Ethel stepped into the canoe and sat down at one end. I pushed the Kemah oif the sand and gracefully jumped in. That is, I intended to be graceful but somehow or other the Kemah must have moved, for I didn't land in the middle, and she began to rock. Ethel turned pale and grabbed the sides of the canoe, but I calmly picked myself up and acted as if it were a common occurrence. I paddled towards the island which was about a mile away. It was a wonderful afternoon, the sun was shining and the water was just like glass. There were quite a few pleasure parties on the lake and soon a motor boat came near. 'Someone shouted and waved, and I raised the paddle in the air to return the salute. I was perfectly safe, I had mere- ly stood up to see who was shout- ing, but Ethel gasped, Oh, do be careful l and made a grab for me. That rocked the canoe and I sud- denly sat down. By this time I was disgusted with Ethel. Twice she had nearly turned us over by her foolish ac- tions. However, I woulcln't be the one to spoil the picnic so I paddled on. Suddenly I had to sneeze and I pulled my handkerchief from my pocket. Out came my pocketbook along with it and flew into the wa- ter. Although I leaned over the side and tried to get it before it sank, my efforts were in vain. I looked at Ethel and her face was a greenish color. How thoughtless I had been! Of course, she wasn't used to the water and I had kept her there in the hot sun for over an hour. I always admit my mistakes, though, so I immediately took her back to shore. Well, don't you believe now that I can paddle a canoe? I asked, as we were walking up to the hotel. We've been out for nearly two ljuurs, and we didn't have an acci- dent. Ethel gave a little shudder. I guess she must have caught cold. Oh, er yes, she stammered, I enjoyed it very much. When will you come out again, -tomorrow? I asked. She hesi- tated. I'm sorry, I have to go back to town for a few days, she said. I'll come with you some other time. Ethel's a funny girl. She's not very enthusiastic about boating. She'd never get into a boat if it weren't for my generosity. '25 .........li..- ARE SALESMEN BORN OR MADE . Persevere! If at first you don't succeed, try try again. You have been at it now since eight this morning. What is the matter with you, anyway? Now when you go into this house, make up your mind not to leave until you have sold to your prospect. With this advice from his boss, Jim Cobb, a new salesman on the job, entered the door of his prospective customer. Good morning, madam, said Jim. Nice weather we're hav- ing.
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