Gentle Julia - Page 148/173

Away! And yet the dazzling creature looked at him from sky, from earth, from air; looked at him with the most poignant kindness, yet always shook her head! She had answered his first letter by a kind little note, his second by a kinder and littler one, and his third, fourth, fifth, and sixth by no note at all; but by the kindest message (through one of her aunts) that she was thinking about him a great deal. And even this was three weeks ago. Since then from Julia--nothing at all!

But yesterday something a little stimulating had happened. On the street, downtown, he had come face to face, momentarily, with Julia's father; and for the first time in Noble's life Mr. Atwater nodded to him pleasantly. Noble went on his way, elated. Was there not something almost fatherly in this strange greeting?

An event so singular might be interpreted in the happiest way: What had Julia written her father, to change him so toward Noble? And Noble was still dreamily interpreting as he walked down the street with The North End Daily Oriole idle in an idle hand.

He found a use for that hand presently, and, having sighed, lifted it to press it upon his brow, but did not complete the gesture. As his hand came within the scope of his gaze, levelled on the unfathomable distance, he observed that the fingers held a sheet of printed paper; and he remembered Florence. Instead of pressing his brow he unfolded the journal she had thrust upon him. As he began to read, his eye was lustreless, his gait slack and dreary; but soon his whole demeanour changed, it cannot be said for the better.

THE NORTH END DAILY ORIOLE

Atwater & Co., Owners & Propietors

Subscribe NOW 25 cents Per. Year.

Subscriptions should be brought to the

East Main Entrance of Atwater & Co., Newspaper Building

every afternoon 430 to VI

25 Cents

POEMS

My Soul by Florence Atwater

When my heart is dreary

Then my soul is weary

As a bird with a broken wing

Who never again will sing

Like the sound of a vast amen

That comes from a church of men.

When my soul is dreary

It could never be cheery

But I think of my ideal

And everything seems real

Like the sound of the bright church bells peal.

Poems by Florence Atwater will be in the paper each and every Sat.

Advertisements 45c. each Up

Joseph K. Atwater Co.

127 South Iowa St.

Steam Pumps

The News of the City

Miss Florence Atwater of this City received a mark of 94 in History Examination at the concusion of the school Term last June.