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Page 32 text:
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The Thronateeska to his sensitive ear-drums. Elizabeth comforted him as best she could. Soon the flashing of the lightning and the noise of the thunder abated, but the rain continued. Elizabeth began to take note of the contents of the room. There were besides the couch, a rough hewn table on which was an oil lamp, two cane bottom chairs, some shelves containing books by the best authors, and a huge fire-place. There was a grating in this last, which she decided was used for cooking purposes. 1 ler theory was corroboi-ated by a large kett'e suspended from a hook. Then something on the mantel caught her attention- It was a picture of herself and Chispa! She remembered that it had been taken to grace the pages of some magazine two years back. It was in a fiame that she knew to be expensive, and under it was a letter addressed to Robert Fisher. Elizabeth stamped her foot. To put it mildly, she was vexed. “Mister Fisherman! Who are you? IIow dare you frame my picture?” she exclaimed, and stamped her foot again. She heard an amused laugh, and there stood a rough looking young man in the doorway. “You see, it would have ruined the picture of the dog,” he said, “if I had cut you away.” Chispa’s eyes seemed even more friendly, w-hen he heard this, and he wagged his tail appreciatively. Rut Elizabeth’s eyes blazed, and her face crimsoned. “Oh! Oh! Oh!” she cried, and fled hastily. The rain, like herself, had retreated at the appearance of Mr. Fisher-man, so there was no reason why she should have remained longer in the cabin. But not even to herself would Elizabeth admit that someone had beaten her at repartee. That night she began to wonder about him. His good looks and pleasant voice conflicted with his lowly abode and unkempt appearance. She decided to write a book with him as the hero who had committed some crime, (just what or why she didn’t formulate), and let him be living in seclusion until it should be forgotten. By making her inquiries carefully, she learned as much as the villagers knew' about him, without letting them know that they were being questioned. This information was that a stranger had come there several months ago, occupied the cabin which he had ordered to be built as simply as possible, and had avoided all contact with them. Elizabeth then began her novel, the one that made her famous. She worked out the plot from the outline she had formed, and not long after her return home, she published it. Many of the descriptions corresponded with the vacation scenes, and her hero’s dwelling place tallied in every detail with Mr. Fisher-man’s hut. When the book was published, Elizabeth marked all the descriptions of the village scenes with a blue pencil, and placing a cutting from a favorable criticism between the pages illustrating the hut, WTapped the book and addressed it to Mr. Robert Fisher. The clipping read: “The story ends satisfactorily. The criminal secluded himself in a forest, where proximity to God and His dumb creatures caused him to repent. He returns to the city to receive his just punishment, and does, for he is pardoned. Page Thirty
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Page 31 text:
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Since the time she had cried for her father’s priceless watch and got it, Elizabeth had always gotten what she wanted. Her mother died when she was a baby, and she, like Topsy, had just “glowed up.” So it was only natural that she was willful, as nearly every pretty girl is who has never met with opposition, but she was exceedingly sweet of disposition—as long as things went well. Now. She and her father were spending their vacation near a little town in the North Woods. Elizabeth needed the rest as much as her over-worked father. Two years before, she had written a little story which a magazine had deigned to publish. Then rashly, contracting to do a series of twelve before July, she had subsequently found that it’s mere fun to write when you feel like it. but hard work when you are under contract to do so. She waited and dreamed longer and longer until June had arrived. Then realizing that she must begin, she worked feverishly every day, and many nights, until she finished the final sketch. Here her vitality failed her, hence her retreat to this uncivilized part of the world. But with the proper sustenance and atmosphere, it doesn’t take youth long to recover from anything. So three weeks later, we find Elizabeth on a beautiful day wandering through a thicket, unguided and unguarded except for her collie, Chispa. She came upon a stream, rippling over and around the numerous rocks, piercing its surface, and a roar down stream gave her the idea that it must terminate in a waterfall. There was a little path by the brook's side, and she followed it listlessly. When she reached the fall, she stopped and wondered. It fell for fifty feet into a great round pool. From a superior height, she could see deep into the basin. Her attention was caught by the myriads of fish swimming and gamboling in its depths. Filled with delight, she wished to see how it looked from below, and descended by a rugged path strewn with rocks and briars. The tortuous route was well worth the trouble. Around the pool, there were many varieties of ferns, a few palms and wild violets. From its far side the fall seemed to be a thin rope of spray. Then she saw what she had not noticed before. It was a cottage, or to term it more correct'y. a hut. Just then, as often happens in the summer time, a storm came up without warning. Elizabeth rushed towards the hut with Chispa close behind her. At the back was a rude lean-to. Quickly she ran under this. Soon the rain began to blow into their scant shelter, so she knocked at the door, but received no answer. Without further ado, she shoved the door open, and entered. It was a clear case of ‘nobody home’, so she settled herself on a couch until the rain should cease. Chispa curled up beside her, whining at every peal of the thunder. He was not frightened, for he possessed a valiant heart, but the strong vibrations of the air currents, caused by the thunder claps, were torture 'entv-nme
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Page 33 text:
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The Thnmateeska At a ball given to celebrate the author’s success, Elizabeth saw a man who seemed familiar, yet with whom she knew she was not acquainted. He was perhaps the best looking man she had ever met. Fully six feet tall, neither stout nor thin, outdoor skin, graceful carriage, coal black hair, and eyes that were alternately gray, blue, black, magnetic personality— all added to his attractions. Look how he was being lionized! She beckoned to a boy who had been her friend since childhood, and stated her desire to meet the handsome stranger. “I’d advise you to steer clear of him,” said ‘Lilly’, “he has broken as many hearts as he is years old-—more than you have Beth.” “That doesn’t say that he will break mine,” Elizabeth said, “and besides 1 haven’t broken any hearts. “You’re breaking mine now,” said Billy to himself, as he went to do her bidding. When they were introduced, Elizabeth did not connect this Mr. Fisher with Mr. Fisherman until he spoke. Then it was all that she could do to keep her self-control, while Mr. Fisherman murmered that he thought they had met before, and in an undertone, he thanked her for the book which she had sent him, and which he had enjoyed more than she could imagine. lie led her out on the veranda. “I’ve come back to meet my just punishment, and I hope it will be a pardon,” he said, his mouth twitching at the corners. “I’m sure you haven’t done anything deserving punishment, and are just trying to torment me,” replied Elizabeth. She had-seen the halfsmile. Just then Chispa came running in, and she showed him more attention than she had in a month. “The crime I committed was a grave one,” went on Mr. Fisher-man, “I deceived a lady. But I want to tell you something else first. I was a wild aYid reckless chap until I fell in love. I thought the lady of my affections was the most beautiful in the world. I found out all I could about her, and found her real beauty was deeper and lovlier, that it was in her soul as well as her face, Then I wondered what she might think of me, and I set about to make myself worthy of her. I plunged into my father’s business. He died, so the management fell on my shoulders. I worked harder and harder. Then one day something snapped.” “The doctor told me that the longer rest I took, and the farther away from business and society 1 was, the better it would be for me, so 1 had the little cabin built in the North Woods, and secluded myself there. The only company I had was my mascot, the picture”—he reached for her hand but it was busy rumpling Chispa’s hair—“the picture of the girl I love.” She felt his eyes upon her, but would not look up. His voice had grown vibrant. Page Thirty one
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