Central High School - Almanac Yearbook (Toledo, OH)

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H Well, said Margaret, as she took off her hat and sat down, ready for a chat, I am Writing an article now for the Sun which you must read. I am sure it will convince you that I am right in this question. I have studied it so long-she was only twenty-four-and learned so much about it. Eugene is such a help to me,-Now, girls, stop looking at each other in such a significant Way. I am not in love With him, nor does he love me. Weire very good friends, that's all. I-Ie says that I am as good as a man to talk to because I can talk on so many subjects. And he isn't afraid to speak his opinion. Why I Wouldn't change such friendship for the World. Isn't it strange he is here most of the time? Youill marry him yet, Margaret, just see if you don't.U Marry? Nonsense! I never intend to marry any man. I haven't time. My Work is to free Women from slavery. Slavery is just What it is. When I think of the Way in Which- '-' Wait a minute, my dear. Remember you are not on the platform. It's too hot a day, and besides, your face gets so red, you aren't nearly so pretty. NOW, Amy, that's just like you. But I'll make you think of other things beside pretty faces and clothes. Don't Worry about me, dear. I can cook and sew now, better than you can. But when the thermometer is up to ninety in the shade, I believe in being comfortable. You see I'm not such a slave as you try to make out. Besides, I think it,s your duty to make some good man happy and not try to free Women when Women are contented and vvouldn't be free for the World. I suppose you even Want to reform their clothes. For my own part, I think my lavvn gown is a great deal prettier than your tailor suit and much more comfortable. No, thank you, I prefer frills to neckties.- But, really Beatrice, We must go. We're going out to lunch. Well, Beatrice, said Margaret, I hope I haveu't bored you so, you'll never come again. It is needless to ask

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Platonic Friendship vs. Love. BY ISABELLE WHEELER, ,00. S Miss Wilson at home, Kate? No ma'am, she has just gone to a neighbor's, but I think she will be back soon. Won't you come in and wait for her? replied Miss WilcoX's maid. Yes, I think I will. Come, Beatrice, Margaret won't be long. We'll go up into the study. The speaker, Amy Rodgers, entered the house as if she was quite at home. She was apretty girl, a decided blonde. She and her friend Beatrice Lawton had just returned from doing some errands, and as the day was exceptionally warm, they had stopped at their friend's house to rest. How Margaret Wilson can ever sit in this pretty room and write such dry things on Woman's Suffrage is more than I can see, said Amy as she sat down at Margaret's desk. She has everything she wants, even a pretty face. Why doesn't she stop this nonsense and marry Eugene Baldwin? Don't worry, Amy, she will before long. I think they're engaged now, replied her friend. You know platonic friendship is such a farce. It always turns into love. Not always girls, Eugene and I are going to be the exception. Amy and Beatrice looked at each other in astonish- ment. They were glad, however, that Margaret came in before they had said any more.

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you with whom you agree for I know you like the men. Don't look guilty, dear, it's all right for you, but I must do my work unhindered. Come again soon, girls, and don't wait for me. I'll come whenever I can. t A few moments later the two girls were going up the street to their respective homes. Why can't those girls see there is more in life than tea-parties? I don't see why I used to like Amy so well. She doesn't appeal to me now the way she once did. She is pretty and stylish and knows it. I expect her wedding invitations any day. Beatrice is a dear little thing but needs some one to lean on. Well I am glad I am different. If I were in love with Eugene, my heart would beat faster when I hear him coming and I should try to look my pret- tiest. I don't believe I have a heart. It's a good thing for womankind I haven't. But I must go back to my work. Summer passed and Margaret was now busy writing a book on her pet subject. Eugene came as much as for- merly. Was their friendship as firm as before? To all ap- pearances, it was. But why did Margaret look at his pic- ture on her dressing-table the last thing at night and the first thing in the morning? And whyhdid Eugene have to look at his watch so often and incidentally at a picture op- posite the face? Can you explain these symptoms, gentle reader, or are you entirely ignorant on such subjects? One gloomy afternoon in November, Margaret returned from the post-oflice after mailing her precious manuscript to the publisher. It was just at dusk and the coal fire looked very pleasant to Margaret's eyes as she entered her study. Kate had told her that Mr. Baldwin had called and had seemed vexed because she wasn't home. But he said he would come back soon, and if he shouldn't come this even- ing, he left a note on your desk for you, continued the maid. Margaret snatched the note and sat down by the fire-light to decipher it. This is what she read: