Lincoln County Leader Supplement
HE
By OLIVE HARPER
Copyright, 1 906, by Amoicma Pkm Aocutioa
. AY, dearest, don't
forget to draw
the duck!" call
ed handsome Al-
ffred Law ton as
he was halfway
down the stairs.
Ills bride of a
month had left
the door of their
bandbox of a
Cat oijuii while
she hung fondly
over the balus
ters, as she al
ways did to see
Hie last of her blessed one, her "old
sugar."
' Lizzie heard the retreating footsteps
down the long hall, the very striking
of the umbrella against the ill send
ing happy little thrills through her.
She sighed henvily as she returned to
the dainty little flat. Was not her
dearest and best gone, not to return
until 3 o'clock?
lie was to bring an old friend xlth
him to dinner. She had not cared to
leave her dear little flat, her paradise,
rather, even for church, and Alfred
had decided that lie was signally bless
ed In having such an nugel for a bride,
one not given to flaunting shows, even
on such a day, when all other women
were showing themselves off lu their
new gowns and hats. He was the hap
piest and most fortunate man In all
creation. And now Jim, dear old Jim,
his chum und lifelong friend, should
have n taste of felicity In seeing their
home and making the acquaintance of
the Incomparable Lizzie, the one wom
an In the whole world.
Lizzie fairly flew . about the little
place, putting dainty touches here and
ALFRED STARTED
there and making the tiny dining room
look too sweet for anything, as she said.
Then into the kitchen went the brave
little soul to wrestle with pots and
pans and the cooking of that wonder
ful dinner.
She had been an artist in black and
white while on one of the dally news
papers with a strong leaning to colors,
E
M 7
aria "he" was an editor. So bis pari
lng request did not seem strange to
her. She was to draw that fine fat
duck that lay before her. She would
and even admired the aesthetic taste
of her dear "old sugar." The duck
alone had a sort of waxy look, so she
made an artistic group of a bed of cel
ery flanked by some carrots and red
apples fo add to the color scheme.
When they were arranged to her taste
she brought her drawing board and
sat down contentedly to draw the
duck. She Just washed In the colors
to be finished at leisure later, bnt
made a careful study of that duck and
succeeded in getting a , very good
sketch of It In all its fatness.
As she surveyed the work of art she
felt very well satisfied. It was a regu
lar "duck" of a duck.
She had everything else prepared
her vegetables on the range, her salad
all made and In the Icebox. They were
to have fruit, cake and Ice cream for
dessert At each plate stood a tiny
floss chicken pecking at a colored egg.
CouM anything be sweeter? And tho
tall glass in the center of the table
held a bunch of Jonquils. And, oh, bow
happy she was! She bad looked In the
cookbook, and it said that exactly
twenty minutes were required to roast
the duck to a turn.
The man with the oysters disturbed
ter at her drawing, but she hurriedly
sketched In all the salient features of
her picture before the fateful twenty .
minutes, when the duck should be
placed In the oven. She salted and
peppered it and lighted the gas. Then
she set the fat and Interesting duck in
the oven and left It for twenty min
utes. Everything else was progressing
finely, and in live minutes it was really
quite hot.
So she left the duck to Us fate and
went to add a few finishing touches to
her toilet and a lust one to the pretty
table. Then her dearly bDloved came
with his friend. After the presentation
Alfred asked:
"Is dinner nearly ready, dearest?"
Lizzie looked at the clock. Yes; It
was fifteen minutes since she had put
the duck lu the oven, so by the time
they had finished their soup and oys
ters the duck would be Just right She
would turn off the gas.
"Yes, I think so. I will see," an
awered the anxious lady. )'
TO CARVE THE DUCK.
Just tneu the Ice cream cuuie, una
Alfred took It from the dumb waiter
with the air of one who had en tertii hi
ed friends at dinner for at least fifty
years.
They sht down to their soup and then
had their oysters. Lizzie's cheeks were
the loveliest pink us she placed the
pretty vegetable dishes on the table
If Siifr-rZiK V i l n" """ is
ana tne sniaa bowl on me siaenoara.
Oh, It was grand to be married and
have a home and guests to dinner!
She brought In the duck.
It did not look just like other roast
ducks that she had seen, but the book
had said twenty minutes.
Alfred , took the carving knife and
started to carve the duck. He thought
there was somethlug . wrong with it,
but he dissembled. With a grand air
he suld he had always liked ducks.
The flavor was excellent. He made
another attack, but bis knife made no
impression on the fowl. He sharpened
the knife, and yet the duck refused to
be carved. It seemed to have the re
sistance of rubber, und he finally re
marked: "I am afraid the duck Is not done."
"I cooked it twenty minutes." re
plied dearest looking worried.
At this moment the knife penetrated
the upper portion of the duck's breast
and an avalanche of whole corn rattled
aown on tne prarter. Airrect loosen wj
tragic that Lizzie began to tremble and
turn pale. He said finally:
"Take It away. I told you to draw
the duck the last thing as I went out,
and you didn't do It."
"I did too," sobbed Lizzie, with the
napkin to her eyes. "I vdld, now."
Saying this she handed her mortified
husband the drawing she had made.
She still sobbed disconsolately, while
Alfred handed the drawing to Jim, and
each let out a roar of laughter that
could have been heard a block.
Poor Lizzie continued to weep.
"Oh, Mrs. Lawton, don't. There is
plenty else, and, besides, Alf. It woa
the butcher's business to do this," Jim
said consolingly.
"I'll I'll discharge that butcher. Nev
er mind, dearest. It wasn't your fault
Mistakes occur to any one, and ah
haven't you got something else?"
"I I could make an omelet" said
Lizzie, wiping her pretty eyes.
"Well, do, and we'll chat while yon
are doing It"
But when Lizzie was alone the
thought of her dismal failure overcame
ber, and so many tears fell that she
was half blinded, but the omelet felt
sorry for her and came out of the pan
light and fine. That and her salad
saved the day, and the ice cream and
cakes were good.
Despite its beginning the dinner was
a very enjoyable affair, and the next
day the duck got another cooking.
Lizzie mnde surreptitious efforts to
get that picture away from her hus
band, but he put It under lock and key.
It was a proof that she did actually
draw the duck.
He la risen! Send tha tidings
Over land svnd aver eea,
Ta tha aaula that axe in bandana.
That hia truth may maka than free.
In tha whiia draam af iha iiliea.
In tha naw lifa af tha spring,
Sea tha aymbola that proclaim him
Chriat tha Kin.
In tha aaula that hava bean quickened
By hia magical naw birth
Sea proclaimed tha wbiteat apirit
, That haa aver touched tha etrth.
Far in them his resurrection
By a mira.de divine
Still ia seen. They are tha breaches.
Ha tha Tina.
Aa iha wsrid. wiiu aoual ejiU3,
Wheels from ahadow into day,
Aa tha seasons mark ita turnings
Hound tha spiral of ita way.
Aa the winier melts in sunshine
And eaxlh'e fresh raba comas to view,
Aa in Nature'a resurrection
Cornea tha naw.
So from glory unto glory
Through tho hidden world af mind
See the White Christ more forever
In the soula of humankind.
And before his magic presence
Evil, strife and error cease.
While the race finds balm and healing
In hia pea.ee.
IWSr
f HE stood in the doorway, a frown
tj) wrinkling her pretty forehead
and somethlug of tragedy In her
voice and gesture.
"I can't go." she declared. In evident
disappointment.
"Can't go, Elizabeth?" he repeated,
in perplexity. "You're not 111. What on
earth has happened?"
"My hat" she began and stopped
abruptly.
"Well?" he queried.
"Didn't come," said she.
"Horrors!" be exclaimed. He pulled
aside the curtains and looked out on
an Ideal Easter morning. "Horrors!"
he repeated, while the ghost of a
smile relaxed his firm mouth.
"It's no laughing matter." said the
girl, with some warmth.
"I know," he said contritely. "Of
course it isn't. Haven't you another
hat?"
The girl glanced at him scornfully.
"Perhaps you'd like me to wear a
winter hat," 6he said.
"Exactly." he said calmly. "I cer
tainly would. It will be a tremendous
service at the Church of the Apostles.
MenonI Is to sing, and there's to be a
string quartet from the Symphony."
"You don't imagine." said she, in
amazement, "that I'd go to the Church
of the Apostles Easter Sunday wearing
my winter hat. do you?"
He smiled patieutly.
"I confess I had no proper realization
of tha enormity of such an act" said
he. "Would they put you out?"
The girl shrugged her shoulders In a
quaint little gesture of despair.
"That's the man of It," she said. "Of
course I can't hope to make you under
stand, but the simple fact remains that
I can't go."
"Ail right," he said cheerfully, and
be resumed the seat he had vacated
when she entered the room.
"But you'll go Just the same," she
-"LIT"" 7 .-- .w- .i.i.rMSTWt wrcs
vehemence.
"I hate to keep you away from
church ou the only day In the year you
ever go," she said.
"See here," said he, "we'll compro
mise. We'll attend service this morn
ing at a pluce where your hat will not
be conspicuous at a place, In fact
where they will never know whether
It Is of ite winter variety or the latest
Easter creation. Will you go?"
"Of course I will," she replied.
They took a suburban car and rode
tn th end nt the route. Then they
walked a mile or bo along a secrnaea
road and presently turned Into a clump
of woods.
Elizabeth looked about her with In
terest then turned to her companion.
: "And where Is the church?" she
asked.
"'The groves were God's first tem
ples,' " he quoted serenely.
"I believe you're glad the hat didn't
come," she said.
He regarded 'her with quiet amuse
ment "I believe I am," he returned.
"I don't believe my hat will be un
duly criticised here," she said, with a
meaning glance in his direction.
"And I shall have you all to my
self," he sard, with content "Let's
perch on the fence and have an Easter -service
for two. There Is at least one
devout worshiper here," be said point
edly. They climbed the low fence and sat
down on the top rider. The air was
soft and it was freighted with the
smell of warm, wet earth. The sun
lijht thrnnjh the branches made on
Interwoven shadow fabric on the
ground. Bird voices piped with a pleas
ant plaintiveness. .
"It's good to be alive," he comment
ed. "Isnt It?" she said.
"And to be here," he went on.
"Rather than at the Church of the
Apostles?" she asked.
"Decidedly," he averred. "I've much
more courage here."
"More courage?" she questioned.
"Yes. More courage to make an
Easter confession." he explained.
"Shall I be given absolution?'
"That depends. It Isn't murder, ia
itr
"More like suicide. I Imagine," be re
turnea grimly. "You won't laugh at It
will you?" he 6ald, with very apparent
anxiety.
"The seal of the confessional, you
know," she said. "Certainly not."
He thoughtfully studied a neighbor
ing tree. The girl was covertly watch
ing him with curious eyes.
"I'm almost afraid to confess," be
said at length.
VI t must be a grievous sin," she ob
served. "I fear you'll think It Is." said he.
There was silence again for some mo
ments. Then he straightened limself
ami cleared his throat.
"I love you," he said simply. . "That's
the confession."
The color surged Into the girl's face.
She turned away ber head bo that her
face was hidden.
"Do I get absolution?" he asked
anxiously.
"No," she said, her bead still turned
away.
The ensuing silence was decidedly
tense. The man broke It.
"Anyway, I'm glad I confessed," he
said stoutly.
The girl made no reply.
"Well," he said finally. "I suppose
we'd better go back."
He helped her from the wall, and
they walked back toward the road.
The man's face was very grave. He
could not see the laughter lurking In
the girl's eyes.
"I thought perhaps you might have
surmised as much," he said, and bis
voice was grave.
"Well, I have," she answered defi
antly. "May I ask, then, why my confes
sion was not granted absolution?" be
Bald.
"Because well, because It's It's only
Bins that are absolved," she replied.
"And we owe it to the hat" said he
"That didn't come," she laughed
softly. T. BLAIR EATON.
Coos County.
It is not often that the people of
Marslifield has an opportunity to listen
to an address which combine the good
qualities of eloquence, depth of thought,
and convincing power of truth of what
is paid, as was the case of the address
delivered at the Odd Fellows' hall last
Saturday evening when Willis C.
Hawley of Salem addressed our people
on ''The Future of Oregon and Coos
Bay." Professor Hawley received close
attention and wa3 frequently applauded
throughout his address. While in the
city he made many friends and you can
hear on all sides that Hawley is the
coming man to represent this district."
Marshfield Weekly Advertiser.
For Sale Fine seed oats,'' both gray
and white, 55 cents per bushel. Bar
gains in flour. See George A. Hall.