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Page 106 text:
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of Tom's departure, and, being sent to the postofhce every day, he watched for all letters addressed to Kitty in a masculine handwriting and quickly destroyed them. ' ' Q At last she began to scan the faces of the people, but decided that she could ask none of them for help, so concluded that the best and only thing for her to do was to wait until the telegram was heard from. Suddenly her attention was drawn to a young man who seemed to be impatiently awaiting the arrival of his train. The head and shoulders were strangely familiar. Could it be possible? It is Tom! she unconsciously cried aloud and in the next instant the familiar figure stood before her. , Some time following was spent in explaining Kitty's presence here and the sad plight she had been in. - ' ,Q , O, that is all over now, dear, you are safe with me, .Tom replied' care- lessly, although he breathed a great sigh of relief. '4But what on earth has been the trouble? I haven't got asingle line from you. .I wrote every day, and, re- ceiving no reply, I concluded that you were sick, so cut my trip a whole week short to find out the cause. A X Then followed more explanations and hnally+something sweeter in that secluded corner, MARYE HUNT LAWSON. IO2
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Page 105 text:
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. , Half an hour to wait. Kitty said: O, l am getting along beautifully. Tom thinks me an inexperienced, untrained country girl. but he will be surprised when he hears that l've made this long trip alone, then. perhaps, he will treat me with all respect and consideration due a lady of twenty-one. She watched the train she had just left pull out and a sense of loneliness crept over her in spite of her self-encouragement. Passing through the gate. she made her way into the large waiting-room and seated herself in a secluded corner. Nearby was a sick child whose sobs rose above the roar and din of the city, and the poor, tired little mother walked up and down trying so hard to quiet her restless babe. Kitty was watching this scene with deep sympathy when she was startled by the tlagman announcing her train and began hastily to gather up her things. To her dismay her purse was missing. She must be mistaken! No, it was not here. She began searching through her suit-case. but this, too, proved' futile. She heard the train-bell, the conductor's All aboard, but her purse she could not find and soon the train rolled on, leaving Kitty in despair. Knowing that it was useless to search farther. she made her way to the ticket agent, who very brusquely informed her that she must have left it on the train. and, at his rude manner, tears welled up in Kitty's eyes. Glancing over his spectacles, he saw these and his heart must have been touched, for he added more kindly that he would telegraph ahead and try to recover it. Thanking him, Kitty walked slowly back to her seat. What must she do? One thing was certain, she would not go to that cross old man again. The heat and worry made her head ache. The baby's cries grew louder and louder. Two fat old men nearby began to grumble because their trains were late. The usual hustle and rush peculiar to a railway station was very much in evidence. She could not think clearly, but she realized all too well that she knew not one soul in this big city. Kitty closed her eyes. There on the front porch was her father. She could see him puffing at his cigar. He was missing his 'little girl tonight and would be heart-broken when he learned her mishap. . She thought of Aunt Sophia and then-Tom. He would be sorry he had treated her this way when he heard that she was dead. The little figure began to droop and on her face there was a tired, worn expression. I wonder why Tom has not written, mused Kitty half aloud. ' Little did she suspect that the new chore-boy was intercepting her letters. Although his staring almost frightened her at times, he was her willing slave, and she could only feel sorry for the boy who from childhood had been half-witted. -Terry misunderstood her sympathy and kindness. He imagined himself desper- ately in love with her and became insanely jealous. It was a relief to him to hear IOI
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Page 107 text:
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Hall of Fame You have heard of wonderful places, Of people of glorious nameg But never before of any so great As those ol' our l-lall of Fame. First comes, then, Miss Mary, the lVateh Dog, lllho stands at her door all the night: She never is known to be sleeping But stands guard with a tiny flash-light. Across from Miss Mary, the watchful, Are the girls from the Old North State, 'l'here's Lucy, who sings like a wild-cat, And Mabel, who stays out so late. Then, there's Beulah, as proud as a princess. ' That we still like her is strange to me, For we have her for breakfast and supper- Her last name being Hash-don't you see? In Room Forty-seven are the gigglers. They giggle from morning till nightg They divide time between giggling and writing, They write, then giggle, then write. Ophelia, from far Seattle, Minnette, from the back-woods nearby- And this terrible combination lVould make any watch-dog cry. And we've a president-President Ethel, A sweet little country lass- She rules like YVoodrow l7Vilson Tho' her realm is the Junior Class. 103 Of all the wise old night owls lVho roost in our Hall of Fame, Old Merlt-'s the wisest and kinilest.: She's a Senior that.'s worthy the name. And our Hall of Fame is not lacking In variety spicy and rare, For we have with us a kindergarten, Mary and Gladys, a dear little pair. And tucked away back in the corner, Too bright to be hid from sight, Is jousie, the red-haired terror, Whose head is this Hall's beacon light. And Marye-we will never forget her, A flower name we must her call. In our memories she will linger- The rosemary sweet of our Hall. And the last, but one, is Old Mary. 'Tis she of the famous screams. l'm glad, for the sake of my rhyming, That, by chance, her name is Reams. And the last, but not least, is Texas, And she is really great! Camille is what she was labelled: We call her Texas to honor her State To our Hall, then, long life and laughter! To those who dwell in it, our love! Good luck to those who come after And in our places shall move! ' -CAMILLE NORTHCUTT
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