Evening Republican, Volume 17, Number 70, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 22 March 1913 — "DADDY, DEAR DAD” [ARTICLE]

"DADDY, DEAR DAD”

He Made Crooked Things Straight and Opened Paths They Knew Not.

BY NELLIE C. GILLMORE. Winona wiped her eyes and re-read the letter. 1$ said: * <-■ .i, ■ r j- 1 J., 'l'-" “Hollywood,’ Jan. 7th. “Dear Little Gal: "Your nice letter came last night and made your old Dad’s heart mighty glad. It makes him feel good, Nona, to know how fine you are getting along with your singing and some day I guess ybu'll be a great star and have your picture in the | Sunday papers. But I’ve always been proud of you and nothing could make me any prouder. “I want to come up and see you next week if I can get the farm in .good order, and I’m glad you are anxious for me to visit Chicago because I wouldn’t want to do anything to make you uncomfortable, or take up your time. "By the way. who Is this young Wilkins you keep talking about? Don’t lose your heart, little girl. Your old Dad wouldn’t want to live If his partner was to leave him. I reckon you’ll let me meet him. anyway, won’t you? "The day before I come I will write to you so you can be sure to meet me at the train. With Iove.—DADDY."

Wouldn’t want to live If she left him! The words rang In Winona’s ears, made her heart beat with heavy foreboding. Did he really feel that way about It and must she go to her happiness over her dear old daddy’s wretchedness? The very night before she had promised Tom Wilkins to marry him on the first of next month. She thought a long time, then she crossed the room to her desk and wrote feverishly: *

“Daddy, Dear: "You aaked me. and I can't wait any longer to tell you the truth. Yea, it la true that I love Tom and have promised to be his wife. The ‘Wilkins are splendid people, belonging to one of the first families of the city, and Tom himself is an angel. You will love him, I know. He wants the marriage to take place on the first as he will have his vacation then, and we can take a lovely trip to Florida. When we come home, we will live with his. mother and brother. Mrs. Wilkins is a widow and Tom thinks it will be nice for us to be together. Then, too, you can come and see me often. The house is big and I can make you so comfortable. Now, please. Dad, don’t let this make you unhappy; If you only guessed how happy I am, I know you wouldn't. "What do you think, dearie? I’ve bought you a stunning new suit--had the tailor make it for the wedding. Of course I’m coming home to be married, and I want everything to be all right. Try to come up Monday and help me buy my trousseau! Lovingly.—NONA.” The answer came back by return mail. Winona opened her fathers letter with shaking hands. Her face flushed as she read: "Dear Little Partner: "Your news almost broke your old Dad’s heart But IVs all right—it’s all right if you care so much for your lover that you, are sure you can’t be happy without him. Only I’m scared for you, honey. The Wilkins ain’t our kind of folks anfl you’ll be made to feel it sooner or later. Not but I don’t think my little gal can hold a candle to anybody—but fine folks are mighty particular and it would most kill me If they started picking on you. But I hope you’ll be just as happy as you deserve to be, and of course I’ll come up and bring the hay money and help you get your duds. Give my regards to your Tom. Affectionately. *-DAD."

Notwithstanding her firm belief in her ability to win the esteem and affection of her husband’s people, Winona was gradually forced to realize the awkwardness of her position. Her father had been right after all; fine folks could make one very uncomfortable sometimes. Scarcely a week had gone by since her marriage that she had not been made to feel in some fashion or other, that she was distinctly an alien. She had borne it as long as she could and then gone to her husband as a last resort and asked him if they could not have a home of their own. "Why,” she said, "here I can’t even think as I choose.” His reply had been characteristic. “My mother is old and practically an invalid, dear. I could not think of deserting her now, even if she is a bit peculiar. Try to be a little more patient.”

And Winona did. But by degrees she grew bitter, resentful and finally jealous. In every affair, great or small, Tom made a point of siding with hie mother against her, yielding first to the older woman’s judgment and finding fault with his wife for her opposition. But never a word of her-nui-happiness went; home to the loving old daddy who believed her the most contented girl In Chicago. ’ Winona had just passed through one x>f -the disagreeable encounters with her mother-in-law, and the tears were standing thick on her lashes. Her eyes were flashing and scarlet circles throbbed In either cheek. She crossed to one of' the windows and stood there a long time staring Into the rose-bloomed court below. A quick, nervous rap on the door brought her to herself. Tom, in all likelihood, come to rebuke her for his mother’s unreasonableness, she mused bitterly. She went to the door and turned the knob. Gerald Wilkins staggered into the room.

“Are you all by yourself, Nona?" he asked hoarsely. “Yes, quite alone and likely to be all afternoon, Gerry. What—what is it? You look like a ghost!” The boy dropped heavily into a chair and buried his face In his hands. His body shook convulsively. Winona regarded him uneasily for a moment; then she Went up to his side and laid a gentle row of white fingertips on his shoulder. “Tell me what is wrong, Gerry,” she said, “perhaps I can help you.” Of all the Wilkins, Gerald was the only one who had ta-

ken her part or showed gny real sympathy for her position. He looked up sheepishly under her touch. She saw that his eyes were swollen and bloodshot “You’ll always despise me, Nona. "No; I’ll understand, I think. Anyway. I want you to tell me the truth. Gerry. We’re friends, aren’t we?” He nodded. "Before I tell you,” he said huskily, "I want you to feel that I’m not all bad: I’ve acted the part of a scoundrel, but —but it was because I’m a fool. But —I’ll tell you—everything.” And he did. •. e’■ e . o‘ e • ’ • ' • ’’Are,you happy, little gal?" Winona’s heart started painfully and she bent her head to hide the insistent' tears. "Quite, quite happy, daddy,” she answered tremulously, "and —I’m so glad you've come. Why didn’t you write me? I would have met you at the train; I always did, you know—"

"I didn't make up my mlnd to it till the last minute. Your letter brought me. And—then the check came in too, about the same time." “And—and you've come to—to—" The girl broke off miserably. She rose and sat down on the sofa beside her father and leaned her head against her shoulder. “You won’t do anything, daddy, will you?” she pleaded. The old man shook his head. His brows were drawn together in a deep furrow and his mouth was sterner than Winona had ever seen it "It’s a serious matter, honey—forging a man’s name for five hundred dollars —” "I—l know, dad; but look! He might have’ run away—he had all the chance. But he wouldn’t; he preferred to make a clean breast of his and do what he could to repair it, As I wrote you, he told me everything; how he had used your signature in a fit of desperation to cover up his shortage at the bank. His mother is old and ill; he was threatened with exposure, and he knew that the shock would kill her. He —he" she broke off, the tears running unrestrainedly down her cheeks. "He’s not all bad. Daddy; he oughtn’t to have gambled, I know. And of course he ought not to have forged sbme one’s name, but I think it was the result of fright and inexperience He’s too kind-hearted; he's been too good to me Give him a chance—please 1" When the old man looked down into the girl’s upturned face, his own eyes were misty. "You ain’t happy, Nona," he said with conviction, “I can tell that And—he’s been good to you? Gerald has?”

"Oh, Daddy!” was all she could say. Her head fell on his knee. She sobbed openly. But in a little while she had dried her eyes. She looked up eagerly. "You will?" she urged, "you"will! I’ve been talking to him, and I feel sure he’ll, square it all up in the end.” A strange smile suddenly transformed the old man’s wrinkled face into momentary beauty. “It —it’s already squared, honey," he said . Tom Wilkins, coming home early to luncheon, placed a letter in his young wife’s hands. "A line from mother,” he said; “she wasn’t so well when they left Let’s see what she says." Matilda tore the edge off the envelope and spread out the written sheet It came from Oakland, Cal., and was dated two days before. A soft glow of happiness overspread her face as she read it:

"My Dear Daughter: I "I felt I just must write and tell you -how charmed both Gerald and myself are with the life out here. Wo have taken a lovely apartment and I am going to keep house for us both. I am feeling a hundred per cent, better and Gerry has already picked up wonderfully. I believe bo would have died if we had stayed another week in Chicago. He has gained ten pounds in a month and really has color in his cheeks. The farm belonging to your father that he engaged Gerry to oversee is in a flourishing condition under tbe new management. It really looks as if we've come to stay, and I want you all to come and make us a visit next fall By that time, I will have entirely forgotten what It means to be an invalid. “Gerald sends a world of love to everybody. Fondly.—YOUß MOTHER." The door opened and a stooped, gray-haired man came in. His eyes beamed as they rested upon his daughter’s face and then upon young Wilkins’. Tom kissed his wife and slipped out, leaving them alone. - “I’ve come to say goodby, honey. Going back home this evening. Coming to the train with me?" £ "You know I am, you old bumbug. And —and Dad—you never would let me bring it up again, but I want to tell you how hard Gerald is working, saving his money to pay you back—” The old man laid a knotty hand on Winona’s fluffy curls. "It won’t hurt him to work, little gal—but as for paying me back—” he looked deep into his daughter's shining eyes, *Tm already paid—in full.” With a little Impulsive movement, Winona flung herself on his breast "Daddy, dear old Dad,” she cried softly. (Copyright, 1912, by ths McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)