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THE DEAR FRIEND FROM FRANCE.By Emma Miller Bolenius.THU telephone- vans insistently in tJ113 brokerage offices of. Mason . Russell. Charley Russell Impatiently took up the receiver.Hello—Russell? Will you do some* thine for me?”The young broker could barely distinguish. the Words, on account of a buzzing on the wire, but concluded it to be his partner with some leftover business. “Sure,” he replied.No sooner was the affirmative spoken than the confusion cleared, andr N Hi 8 early youth George .Wash-I ingtoa was a mere child, Even * at that iperiod, however, did lie so deport himself as to earn the admiration oC, all who* esteemed him. Alas, can this be said of other great men who Were once little?When hc was about 6 years otd, Washington was made'-the owner ot* si little hatchet. The ceremony was simple and devoid of pomp,-but dignified and complete, From that momentVLCNT“Mademoiselle reaches, Jersey City at 7; 10.instead of his partner he heard a girlish voice plunge into a flood of directions;“Mademoiselle reaches Jersey City at 7: Ifl Pennsylvania. Please bring her to the Ex Moor, third floor front. We’ve ins I moved. I'm all aluno and can’t go.”“You've the wrong—’* began Russell politely.“No, I'm sure of the train,” insisted tliii sweet voice. “She will hn.ve a blue ribbon, too. IsrvT that fine? You’re a darling to go.”Before Russell could launch into ex-nlanaiions. a faint click came as the speaker hung up the receiver.“Public station, parly gone,” said the telephone girl blandly, when the hpokfcr frantically rang up central.Russell Hank back in his chair ngust, when lie realized that their was no alternative. He pulled put his watch. Six-fifteen. Just time to meet the train. Ho run over I lie fragmentary directions smiled appreciatively as ho remembered the girl's concluding remark- “You’re a darling to go!” She did have a nice voice. Then he snapped his desk'shut and left the office.“See that gent,” announced a station guard, as t.Jie evening crowds forced through the train gates toward the New York ferries, '‘Detective watcliin' fur a criminal!”“You’se don't say so!” And the second tmvployo joined tluj. loiterers in curious observation of I he nice looking 3tung‘ man who approached caution a Iv every foreign looking woman and scrutinized her costume.Russell manned hla brow. This was hard work. For an V.aur and a hall' he hud watched for belated trains. He was beginning to feel ridiculous. The only decent thing was to report his failure at I he Ex Moor, so lie crossed the ferry, located the house in a directory. and wag soon oil ft Broadway Rill*.When he stepped from the elevator on the third floor, the boy directed-him three doors down a dim corridor. While he was groping for the c-loctric button Iho dour swung open and a fluffy-haired girl stood poised on the tip of a wave of light “I knew- you would do it,” she declared gladly.I beg your pardon,” begun Russell. The girl drew hack in dismay at the strange voice issuing from the dark corridor.“The French woman -didn't eomo—” The frank slam from the young woman rather disordered his nicely chosen words, but Russell Oauwter-crl on.“You phoned—-I met all the trains— but could not find a French woman with a single blue bow,” ‘“A French woman?” The pretty forehead wrinkled up in most enchanting fashion. “Why—the only time I ■phoned was tn Russell fn”—Fm Russell” smiled the young man.The girl’s blue eyes looked frankly Into his. “But I mean Russell Towne,” she said.“Now we have It.. The phone calls not mixed. Baker Towne Cn. have offices next to ours.”“I’m awfully sorry.*“I'm not. Except for the French girl. If only you could have seen me watching the gates for ladies with blue bows!”“Oh.” cried, ‘the girl incoherently, “Mademoiselle!”She must have been depending on— her husband, probably, thought Russell—(the nicest girls always wore married) to meet a dear friend from France.”1 will find her,” ho offered quick-lv. “She may have gone Into a restaurant for dinner/'The sh'l dropped Into a chair; in tho dim light Russell saw that she shook. as if In a paroxysm of grief.“[ WILL find her, Mrs. Towne” Ug rromiacd eagerty. Anything to slop these pitiful sobs.The girl lifted her head. Her eyesthe hatchet belonged to him. This is a pleasing thought to ponder over.On a memorable morning lie thoughtlessly tried the edge of his b:»trhet on a fine cherry tree in his rather’u garden. This was Important. Had the cherry tree boon in someone eise’s garden, his father might notOutbursts of IV*H£orrQQN OR *BUSY LITTLE BIRDIf ifl interesting to watch the English sparrows building their nest a under the iron stairway oF the fire escane of the Grand opera house on Crockett street. The Uttle birds are busy all day long gathering twigs With which to build their nests.. Where they get tho twigs only the bird knows, but he never returns to bia nest without something in his bill to help nJong the neat-bulldlng. Thus the. little bird puts in tho entire day building his little* homo, never once loafimr on the job. Sometimes the t bird will carry a twig too large U j handle and this will full to the ground, hut Mr. Sparrow is right there to .pick it un ilnd make another try to take,It home. When the wind Is very strong the bird labors under •difficulties, for often the twig in blown from his bill, but the bird does not mind this and is at. once on the ground .picking up tho identical twig that he had just tlronnod. For patience, Tcrflcverancc and cheerfulness one can derive an excellent lesBon by watching these Utile birds building their nests. *were full of tears, hut the shins and twinkle there went ii-ot of sr.*row.“French woman; Mrs. Towno!” sho crier! with Utile rtppW of laughter,that left the map nou-plussGd* Why;Mademoiselle is mY blue ribbon spaniel and Rnasetl la—my crmflin!”The man’s face cleared by magic, “Let's find Mademoiselle. K- siig-fiosted Quietly* “to Introduoo ust” /
Newspaper Details
San Antonio Light
San Antonio, Texas, US
Mon, Feb 22, 1909
Page 2
Full Page
Clipped by
Anonymous
USA 10 May 2022
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