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Page 32 text:
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TI-IE TAI-IOMA 31 No, theyire awfully clumsy and old-fashioned, she said throwing a school book down on the steps. She pick-ed up a story book, and making her way out under the maples, settled leisurely back to read. Saturday came, bright, and clear and hot, butwith the pleasantest of sum- mer breezes blowing. Beth scolded a little about her crepe dress, that she was doomed to wear for the sixth time to an afternoon party. Oh, you look so sweet, l-l-elen said as she gave the rose-colored sash an extra pat, and stood back to get a better effect of the pr-etty little hat, which matched her sash and was so becoming. Beth smiled and hurried away. She said hello to the Springdale boys, who were congregated in the school- yard with bats and balls and dogs, to play the boys of the neighboring town. Say, Jimmie, she called to one, do you know where there is some wild honeysuckle? ushucks, what a question! Jimmie said with disgust, as he came up to give some particulars about the game. Oh, sure I do, l'll see you tonight, he said, hurrying back to the group on the school steps. Beth and two or three other girls were chatting gaily about their dresses, as they walkedlalong the fine, shady street towards Dot Farrell's residence, when around the corner came the adored Bobby, with his mother, an elderly lady of evident culture. Whe1'e are you going, my pretty maids? he asked, smiling. UA party, I'1l bet. Right, laughed Beth. lVlother and l are off to the coun- try for a lark-a picnic first, and then an informal call on a friend of m':-ther's he explained as they passed. lsn't he adorable in that suit? the girls began, while Mr. Irving in- formed his moth-er that these were some of the wealthiest and nicest girls in the school. It was evening when Beth returned. The air was cool and fragrant. 'Springdale isnit such a bad place, she thought to herself as she came tripping along the crooked path, over- grown with wild roses and tall pink foxglove. The girls are easily duped, she laughed, and started to hum a little tune. Helen, where are you, sister?,' she called at the gate. No answerg so she decided that she was in the little hot-house watering her tomatoes, and made her way thither, humming the rest of the tune. Say, Helen, she said gaily, rush- ing in. Helen was talking to some one. 'Tve made a fairly good living with my gardens. l've kept my sis- ter in school, she was saying. ln one corner an elderly woman was standing, admiring l'lelen's little garden of ferns and heliotrope. Beth knew her as Mrs. Irving, and Bobby, the adored, turned around quickly at the sound of her voice. Oh, gasped Beth, starting back. This is my sister, Mr. Irving, Helen said, with an admiring glance at Beth. Oh, ah, how do you dof' he said mechanically, looking first at Beth and then at Helen, and ending in a whistle, as he always did when thing surprised him very much. l'low?-why--H Beth began stopped while a deep Hush spread over 'her face. ln a moment she was mas- ter. l-ler head came up, and she said calmly, even with amusement, Why, Helen, Mr. Irving and I are old friendsg he's my botany teacher. A strange little smile came into l-lelen's eyes that Beth didn't see. Yes, indeed, Beth and I know all about a hot laboratory and dande- lionsf, M1'. Irving laughed good- naturedly. low any- and
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Page 31 text:
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30 TI-IE T ned a little trip up toward the moun- tain Sunday, and l'm sure to see some along the way: in fact, l know of a spot where there are just stacksf, All right, then, We'll have wild honeysuckle Monday. lt's one of my favorite flowers , lVl1'. Irving declared. The girls all liked it, too. This being decided, the next thing that came up for discussion was the assembly of the same morning. After the speaker's dress and hat had been thoroughly reviewed, and Bobby's opinion given in passing, Beth sighed and declared that she was going home. ul know the car isn't waiting for me. Mother thinks it so undemocratic to have it meet me after school, she said with a little pout, 'Td make the janitor clean up all this mess, she called back, as she and the rest of the girls went out. Beth stamped her foot and scolded as she placed her little panama on her wavy hair, and took a squint at herself in the little mirror that was the common property of a dozen or more girls. Mother doesn't realize how nasty and hot it is on that miserable Springdale car, for she never rides on it herself. Oh, yes, we all know that you are a very unfortunate childf' Jess said with mock pity. I only wish my dad could boast of an automobile at allv, she laughed carelessly. Well, you are unfortunate, Jess, the others remarked. Oh, goody, thereis your car, Annie, half a dozen girls cried mer- rily, as they emerged from the stuffy basement into the hot afternoon. They and more, piled into the auto, shout- ing back good-byes. Stop in for me tomorrow afternoon, Bethg we'll all go down to Dot's together, was the parting salute. AI-IOMA All right, good-byew' Beth an- swered merrily enough. After a fifteen minutes' walk to the lnterurban de- pot, Beth's good spirits were consider- ably lowered. Sh-e climbed on the Springdale car two minutes before it left the station. It was filled with farmers, seedy and unshaven, and their wives, dowdy and tired. A coarse- looking 'man got up and gave Beth his place, with an awkward grin. Beth's tip-tilted nose went higher in the air as she sat down. Within the next few blocks a young woman, red and perspiring, got on with two large baskets in her hands. Oh, hello, sisterf' she called, smil- ing as she stopped by Beth's seat. Beth's body straightened visibly. 'il-lello, Helen, she answered coldly. One of Bethis neighbors farther up in the car rose and offered Helen his seat. 'Tm tired, because I'm late getting through with my delivering, so I think I'l1 sit down, Beth. Beth's critical eyes noticed with displeasure how her hister's dress drooped, how old and run down her shoes were, in short, how dowdy she looked. l-ler eyes wandered again and again to her faded blue dress, and the faded flowers on her hat, and she remarked, also, that her sister had grown round-shoulderedg that her finger-nails were worn, and her hands and arms sun-burned. A feeling of aversion came over her, yet she could not but notice how soft and line her voice was contrasted with the shrill, coarse ones around her. I do love l-lelen, but- she thought to herself and that but be- came enormous. After a ride, long enough to get one thoroughly out of sorts, they arrived at Springdale. They said nothing till l-lelen commented at the gate, in front of their little cottage, Aren't the snap-dragons lovely, Beth Y'
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Page 33 text:
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32 TI-IE TAI-IOMA V 1 The Midnight Fisher BY TRILLIUM ROBERTS If HE. moon, a golden crescent sf U. ' 1, JE-:wer Isciuided thrciuugh tlie s ar-in ai eaven,w 1 e pa e golden, massed clouds tum- bled across its path, and dimmed the radiance of its gleams, The stillness of that silver night was broken by the scolding waters of a miniature river, which bubbled its way among the rocks and reeds of a small ravine, haunted by weird shad- ows and stray moonbeams. The midnight fisher stood on the mossy bank, his shadow rellected in the star-twinkling water. In his hand he held a slender, lithe fishing pole, which gleamed in the moonlight. Straight and tall he stood, alert of eye, waiting for the silver sparkle of the trout as it made its turbulent way around the rocks of the stream. Then suddenly, swiftly, the pole, a silver streak of light, whirled into the air. The reel sang merrily, the line grew taut. Swiftly the unseen fish turned and sped up the stream, whirled again, and fought its way with the cur- rent. The fisher steadied his line, and the reel ceased its humg breathlessly, the trout leaped clear of the water, a Hash, a glow of silver, then disappear- ed into the shadowy depths of the stream. Struggling against the cur- rent, whirling, leaping into the air, swimming down the stream, the silver beauty became quiet, and rested in a poo-l of murky water. The midnight fisher waited expect- antly. The fish grew bold. Was it free? It leaped into the air, it sped up the stream, and down again, leaping, struggling, bounding, but the hook held fast, the reel still sang. The midnight fisher slowly reeled in his line. A little leap, then quiet. Nearer, and nearer, no resistance, a final brave attempt for freedom, and the hsh leaped from the water, but in vain. The Hsher gently drew the gasping fish from the water, and laid it on the moonlit bank. It laid there, a mist of silver, the dying captive of the mid- night fisher.
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