LOVE
1 r. 1
n
WAFFLES
n
By Marian Phillips Johnson
IT HAD all been vvy exciting
getting married right In Uncle
Hilary's teeth, you might say!
Going with Peter to pick out that
darling place in the suburbs that
Uncle Hilary would surely give
them for a wedding present! Tak
ing an option on it to make sure
it wouldn't get away!
But, going with Peter to break
the news to Uncle Hilary that
was an entirely different matter!
"It seems a rather foolhardy
thing, In my opinion," Uncle Hi
lary said, fingering a paper knife.
"I have told you, Peter, that I am
not In any way assured that you
will make a success In the real
estate field. You're too easy
going." He glowered at Peter un
der his heavy brows.
"I'll make good!" promised
Peter, cheerfully. "I'll have some
thing to work tor now!"
"I'm not guaranteeing you a
steady position just because
you're my nephew or because
you have done this foolhardy
thing!" snapped Uncle Hilary.
"You'll have to make good do
you understand? You'll have to
begin by selling Coles!"
"Yes, sir," said Peter, a litUe
faintly. Angela felt a queer trem
bling somewhere within. She
knew how tough that Coles propo
sition really was!
"And as tor you, young lady,"
ald Uncle Hilary, transferring
bis hostile gaze to her, "don't
you think you've taken a rather
serious step? Giving up a good
position with a future, mind
you! tor a dishpan in a two
room flat If you can afford even
that!"
"N-no," breathed Angela, thank-"
Jng her stars he hadn't said
"weren't"!
"Well, you've done it!" Uncle
Hilary snapped. "Work it out!"
"O. K.," said Peter quietly.
Come on. Angel!"
HE'LL think it over," grinned
Peter, outside. "He'll kick
in with that house, yet!"
"What shall we do?" asked
Angela.
"Buy furniture," said Peter.
She began to vision unpalnted
furniture and cans of bright
lacquer and new paint brushes
and gay, Inexpensive chintzes and
well-planned low-cost meals. She'd
help Peter make things go!
And then, one morning,' a
square pasteboard box arrived.
Angela opened It with shaking,
eager fingers to discover a
waffle iron! A wedding present
from Uncle Hilary!
ONE morning, clad in a very
oecomlng little house frock,
Angela was measuring coffee into
the new drip coffee pot and hum
ming a gay little song.
Peter, with his shirt in one
hand, came grinning into the
kitchen and kissed her smartly
on the back of the neck.
"Take that, woman," he ad
monished sternly, waving the
shirt at her. "Can't you take your
work seriously o' mornings?"
CLASSIFIED
AGENTS WANTED
Caah Income Daily Silverino Mirrora at Home
Plauut AutorarM. Tal.leware, Etc-., ('ominalior, Oulnt.
Rrile oTKlNKI.E. Hater. Hi, Menon. In.li.na
HELP WANTED
MAN OR WOMAN
wanted to supply cuiromeu with famoul Wat.
aim Producti. No inveitment. Busintlt eilab
lllhed, earninqi average 125 weekly, pay itartt
lmm.diat.lv. Wrila J. R. WAIKINS CO., 4SeO
Hollli SI., Oakland, Calif.
FILM8 DEVELOPED
Rim. ovelotil. Wo corn. Two 5x7, Knlarirrtwnw
hirt Ukm Prima, Club Hioio Service, lioi B..
UOmWa
KNITTING YARNS
KNITTING YARNS
UNCLE UM YARNI, I! 00 . ffily Bowkt. Saionr. fkt
land, four.pty Ofrmaalown. Tweene. lor eoate. (weaier
dream, ate. Free nmplee. Prompt mail armr. M lt;lff
era ooton. Samuel Goloetein.JJSlaetOtinhHl RJ..N.V.C
REMEDIES
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"It's only my naturally sunny
disposition, sir," apologized An
gela meekly. "Leggo! You're
breaking my ribs!"
She wriggled out of his em
brace and made a lunge for the
tea kettle.
Scanning the cheery small
kitchen, Peter's glance fell on the
shiny new waffle Iron, and in
spiration seized him.
"Let's have some waffles,
honey," he said.
Angela stopped in her tracks
and turned to look at the waffle
Iron on its painted yellow shelf.
"It's a little late for waffles,
darling," she parried. "Let's have
scrambled eggs on rounds of
toast, with cute little curls of
bacon!"
"Gosh!" mourned Peter, re
luctantly. "I had my mouth all
set for waffles and honey!"
"Some other time," said An
gela crisply.
She scrambled eggs deftly and
placed the finished product before
Peter with a warm little flush of
pride.
"Swell," said Peter, sampling
them. "Pref near as good as
waffles!"
"Angela felt the warm blood ris
ing steadily in her cheeks. Just
like a man, she thought He
would forget the Insult of that
Iron If it occurred to him it might
produce something good to eat!
"I thought I was fixing some
thing especially nice," she said at
last, in a cold little voice.
Peter lifted surprised eyes to
her flushed young face.
"Gee, I didn't mean I didn't
like It," he said. "It was a swell
breakfast!"
With his arms around her, and
his kiss on her lips, Angela felt
the strange tenseness within her
melting like a mist
"Darling!" she murmured and
happiness settled softly down
upon the Selway domain.
But on Sunday morning, out of
a clear sky, Peter sprung the
waffles on her again.
Angela's breath stopped right
In the middle of a perfectly swell
little trill. I
"C'mon, honey," urged Peter.
"I'll bet you sling a mean waffle!"
IT NEVER would have happened,
she told herself afterward, If
Pete hadn't followed her around,
talking all the time taking her
mind off what she was doing!
He put the iron on the table
and turned it on.
"It's automatic!" he exulted.
"It clicks!"
"It ought to growl," muttered
Angela, thinking of Uncle Hilary.
"Who's afraid of the big bad
wolf?" caroled Peter.
In spite of Peter's interruptions
Angela managed to finish the bat
ter. Peter lifted the lid invitingly.
"Sling 'er there, honey!" he
urged.
Angela covered the surface of
the iron carefully with the golden
batter and closed the lid. Then
she sank into her chair and joined
Peter in fascinated contemplation
of the tricky little machine be
fore them. The cover began to
rise slowly, and little spurts of
fragrant steam escaped. Peter
sniffed, Joyfully. Then the batter
began running in three long
streams down the sides of the
iron and cooking Itself on.
"Too much," opined Peter,
cheerfully.
"Yes, 1 can almost figure that
out for myself," remarked Angela,
sharply.
"Don't get huffy," said Pete.
"Who's huffy?" demanded An
gela. "You're huffy," remarked Pete.
"I am not!" defied Angela,
hotly.
"It's burning," suggested Pete,
sniffing.
"It hasn't clicked," defended
Angela.
It clicked.
"There!" exulted Peter.
Angela grabbed for the handle
and executed a valiant tug. But
the iron didn't seem inclined to
opeii
"It's stuck!" cried Angela,
wrestling gallantly.
Peter watched the proceedings,
and grinned.
"Whut'a In them thar waffles,
Mrs. Selway?" he Inquired inno
cently. "DeGrage's glue, per
haps ?"
Angela lost both her dignity
and lirr temper.
"I hale you!" she cried, eye
blazing. "Ouch:" she added pain
fully, burning hea finger.
"I wu only kidding!" cried
Peter. "Angel, are you hurt?
Here, let me!" He kissed the In
jured finger, then proceeded to
pry open the Iron and scrape out
tne waffle that clung to every
little square as though it had be
come part of the iron itself.
Angela, waving the injured
hand gently back and forth,
picked up the little green book
with the other, and began to read.
"Heavens!" she exclaimed. "I
should have oiled the thing first!"
"Atta-girl," grinned Pete. "Read
the directions arer you try "em!
That's system for you!"
"I never used a new iron be
fore," defended Angela, truth
fully. "It was your fault, any
way," she flamed, "for talking to
me all the while!"
"Excuses," said Peter, grandly,
enjoying himself. "How far do
you think excuses would get you
In the business world, Angela?"
"They seem to work pretty
well," said Angela sweetly. "They
have with you haven't they?"
She felt better. A little better,
anyway.
"I suppose you meant that for
a dirty dig about Coles," said
Peter, jabbing furiously at the
Iron.
"Well, you started it," accused
Angela, feeling something sting
ing in her eyes.
"Well, don't start crying about
It," said Peter. "I don't know why
it Is," he went on reasoningly,
"that a woman can work in an
office and be cool and efficient and
sensible. But get her Into a home
and she goes to pieces over every
little thing!"
"It's because housekeeping Is
hard, and dirty, and tiresome!"
cried Angela hotly. "And I
wouldn't have to be doing It if
your darling old Uncle Hilary
didn't have to run our whole lives
for us!"
"Oh," said Peter, "so that's the
way you feel about It!"
"Well, I didn't hire out as a
cook when I married you did
I?" demanded Angela, and went
Into her bedroom and slammed
the door. Her finger hurt. She
stuck it in her mouth and It hurt
still more. Tears rolled down her
cheeks.
Peter came in and tried to take
her in his arms. Angela shrugged
angrily away. Peter captured and
held her, and kissed her and told
her that he loved her and what
did any old waffles matter, any
way ? It all took quite a long time
but peace was finally restored.
The scar of it remained between
them, like a nasty deep little
wound, refusing to heal.
It always seemed worse at
breakfast. Angela couldn't eat a
single breakfast without thinking
about those terrible waffles, seeing
again the great bowl of creamy
batter she had thrown away, and
the horrid burned iron; hearing
again Peter's clever remarks;
feeling him being critical of her.
Peter wasn't the same, either.
He was silent and jumpy, and a
little strained look appeared
around his eyes. It gave Angela
a horrid feeling that be was dis
satisfied with her; it angered her
to feel that he was measuring her
efficiency as a wife by a waffle!
AND then one day Angela sud
i denly Wouldn't bear It an
other minute!
"I I guess it's been a mistake
about us, Pete," she said, in a
strange little voice.
Peter didn't look at her.
"I I guess so," he said.
"So I guess Td better go,"
suggested Angela, her throat ach
ing terribly. "I I can't stand it,
Pete!"
Peter pushed back bis chair and
stood up.
"All right If that's the way
you feel about It." he said stiffly
and went out, without even
kissing her good-bye.
Angela sat at the table and
wept. She could see herself get
ting old and faded and having
only a memory of four wonderful
weeks as the one beautiful thing
in her life! It was horrible! After
a while, she packed.
She would, she decided, take
the 8:18 that night. That would
give her the opportunity to tell
Peter good-bye.
Six-thirty found her white and
jumpy, pacing up and down, wait
ing for Pete. Maybe he wouldn't
come!
All at once she heard him, at
the door. But there were volres!
And th"n reter ram in. cheerful
and gay with I'nclr Hilary!
Peter klaaed Angela lightly.
"Uncle Hilary decided to come
home with me, Angel," he said.
1
iiiir.
"Heavens," she exclaimed. "I should have oiled the
thing first!"
"Atta-girl," grinned Pete. "Read the directions after
you try 'em."
"How p-perfectly darling," aald
Angela, hollowly, taking Uncle
Hilary's hat and stick.
In a few moments she slipped
away to the small bedroom am?
stood regarding her packed bags.
Suddenly Peter stood beside her
"Don't go, Angel," he begged,
reaching an arm toward her
Angela eluded the arm. "I was
taking the 8:15," she informed
him, coldly.
"Listen, honey, you can't!" said
Peter. "Uncle Hilary
"AH right!" flamed Angela. "I'll
wait! I I suppose I have my
pride, too, Peter Selway," she
murmured tensely, so that Uncle
Hilary shouldn't hear. "He was so
sure we'd make a mess of things!
Well, he shan't have the satisfac
tion of being here to umpire the
separation! I I'll stay for to
night! And I'll feed him within
an inch of his domineering, sel
fish, over-fed life! And I hope be
gets the most case of indigestion
on record!"
"Angel!" cried Pete.
With a strange, wild Joy surg
ing in her heart, and Peter tag
ging at her heels, Angplrt returned
to the living room and dear Uncle
Hilary.
"Cozy little place you have
here," smiled Uncle Hilary, ap
provingly. "How do you like
housekeeping, Angela?"
"Fine," lied Angela.
"Cookln' and all that fun,
eh?" asked Uncle Hilary.
' Angela couldn't bear It But,
somehow, she managed to nod,
brightly.
"Well," remarked Uncle Hilary,
"you're making a rcnl business
man of Peter, my drar!"
Angela managed a smile.
"Yes," said Unrlc Hilary.
"What do you think your old man
did today, Angela?"
"I -I wouldn't know," aald An
gela. "He sold Coles!" beamed Unrle
Hilary.
"No!" gasped Angela, "Oh Pe
(ter!" "He certainly did surprise me!"
said Uncle Hilary.. "Guess mar
i.;r
riage was what he needed after
all brought out his sense of res
ponsibility." "Plenty!" muttered Peter.
"By the way," said Uncle Hil
ary, pleasantly, "how about that
waffle-Jigger, Angela? Couldn't
cook an old man a waffle, could
you?"
Peter Jumped, turned pale, and
looked at Angela.
"W we'll see," she said, and
rose to her feet "Excuse me, will
you?" With her chin lifted high
she started toward the gay little
kitchen.
"Excuse me," said Peter, and
followed Angela.
ISTEN, honey," he said,
L anxiously, "you could give
him some of those rounds of toast
with scrambled eggs and cute
little curls of bacon "
"I could," said Angela, eyes
bright. "Ob, Peter, how did you
ever sell Coles?"
"I had to," said Peter, simply.
"I was losing you, Angel!"
"But how " repeated Angela,
feeling something sharp In her
eyes.
"It was today or never with
me," said Peter. "I guess I Just
got It over to him that I meant
business!"
He was holding her close! he
was kissing her like he used to
kiss her a week ago!
"Listen, Pete." gasped Angela
at last, "go talk to Uncle Hllat
while I dig up something."
"Give 'lm fried eggs," mu
mured Pete, his lips on her hal:
"I'll feed him," said Angela .
She act up a small table In thi
living room there waan't any
dining room end placed th'
shiny bright walll' iron on thr
tea wagon at her right
Peter glanced al. the wallle no
as though he expected It to ream
' out and bile him. Then h InokM
uneasily nt Angela. He Mt norr;
for Angela He looked about th
table. Butter. Honey. .Hugar and
cream. Coffee. Nothing more.
Nothing to est In raso those
waffles didn't turn out
If It Had Been Another Woman, Angela Might
Have Stood Her Ground. But It Wasn't. It Was
a Shiny, New Waffle Ironl
Angela ladled the creamy mix
ture from the tall earthen pitcher.
Uncle Hilary sniffed. .
"A bachelor misses a lot In this
life," he murmured a little wist
fully. "You know cozy little
meals cooked right at the table
like this! Funny," he added, "but
I've always been specially fond
of waffles! Probably selfish of me,
but I was sort of hoping I could
sneak In for a few once in a
while, when I gave you this!" He
waved a hand In the direction of
the Iron.
THE Iron clicked competently
in reply. Peter gazed at It,
fascinated. He Just knew it was
going to stick and split and
cling and burn. There was pain
in his grey eyes.
But Angela reached over and
deftly lifted the top of the iron,
disclosing a crisp brown waffle.
Easily she removed It and poured
In another.
She watched the two of them.
She saw expressions of deep con
tent on both their faces as they
tasted the delicious fare, accom
panied by the fragrant, steaming
coffee and something In her
heart began to sing. She smiled to
herself, remembering how she
had spent one solid hour making
waffles that very afternoon sift
ing, beating and cooking them
so that she could leave Peter with
a clear conscience.
"They're marvelous," murmur
ed Peter.
"I'm proud of you both," beam
ed Uncle Hilary, accepting an
other portion. "Got real stuff In
BACKAUHfc
7 .
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RUB PAIN
AWAY WITH
you! I I just wanted to make
sure!" His blue eyes misted
dreamily. "Nice kids," be was
thinking. "I'll have to do some
thing for them"
But Angela was looking at
Peter darling, beloved Petei"
whom she wouldn't have to leave
now! Because sbe wasn't a
failure any longer! Because she
bad made good!
"Do have a waffle, honey," sbe
said, demurely, passing him the
plate.
Copyright, 1956.
ROLLS DEVELOPED
Two beautiful doubto might pro
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25
COIN
fiayi Photo Soviet, La Cm, Wis.
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