Evening Republican, Volume 18, Number 276, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 21 November 1914 — THE WRONG ADDRESS [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

THE WRONG ADDRESS

By OLIVE ROBERTS BARTON.

Rosina looked scrutinizing the

around/ doubtfully, houses along the street "White, with a buckeye tree to the left of the front porch,” Aunt Ina had said. The one beforb her answered the description. Bob Nevis, with his feet comfortably elevated on. the porch rail, sat reading the morning paper. Noticing a lady turn in at the gate hd sprang up and

stood waiting for her at the door. “I’ve brought the tatting for Mrs. Mendelheim,” Rosina began diffidently. "Will you please give it to her, and tell her that Aunt Ina, I mean Miss Ridgeway, is sick today and won’t be able to help with the fancywork booth. She’s very sorry and hopes Mrs. Mendelheim will be able to manage without her.” She held out a small paper parcel which the. young man accepted with thanks. Bob stood looking after her. ‘Hm! Who the deuce is she, I wondtr? Don’t remember having - ever seen her before. By Harry! she’s a crackerjack for looks, Isn’t she?” Doctor Nevis stood smiling Inside the screen door and Bob spied him. “Then you heard, dad!'* “Yes, couldn’t help it and can’t say that I blame you much. Mighty pretty young lady! But if I were you I believe I’d have told the truth. That Mrs. Mendelheim does not live here, and, Incidentally, suggested showing her the way to the right house.” Bob considered the matter. He didn’t relish a walk of eight blocksalone—when he had an interesting book and good cigars. So he called Sammy Croop, next door, and gave him a nickel and the bundle of tatting, telling him where to go.

Sammy Croop stuffed the small bundle into his pocket and started on his way. At the corner of Crlssmore street he met J’mmy and David Harrowdale on their way to the swimming hole. Sammy yielded without much coaxing and agreed to go along, deciding that the return trip would be time enough to make his delivery. But Sammy got a cramp In the deep water, and Jimmy managed to hold him up in a way while David yelled for help to some men In a nearby field. The result was that Sammy, weak and subdued from his sousing, was brought home oh a partly loaded hay wagon and delivered to his mother. All day, Mrs. Aaron Mendelhelm worked at the church, wondering why Miss Ridgeway did not come to help. “If she can': come she might have sent word,” she soliloquized Indignantly. "I could havo gotten someone to help. And Z.ow about that tab ting she has been workins on tor months? She sayc there’s twenty dollars’ worth. And now where is she? Does anybody know anything about Miss Ridgeway?” But nobody did. At six o’clock Mrs. Mindelheim left the completed yellow and lavender booth and dragged her weary way homeward. Her cup of tea failed to revive her and she went to bed with a splitting headache. One of the Mendelhelms telephoned to the Ridgeways and the result was that Roslna went to take charge of the proprietorless booth, puzzled about the miscarriage of her message. Mrs. Nevis, leaving the house that night, asked Bob to go along; and he soon found himself facing Rosins! But Roslna had a disconcerting way of looking directly through him that made him feel decidedly insignificant “I hear that I can get some of Miss Ridgeway’s beautiful tatting,” said his mother. "I’m sorry, but we have none. It was sent, but through some error has not reached the church." “That is too bad!” returned Mrs. Nevis, moving away. “Come, Robert” Robert discovered the Indian suit and the tatting next njorning, both drenched with rain. He took the tatting home to his mother and started out to hunt the Ridgeways to turn in twenty dollars to Miss Ina. Roslna came to the door. "I’ve come to confess!” began Bob, humbly. “Yes?” "I’m a liar and a thief!” In spite of herself Roslna laughed. "How dreadful! You look contrite enough to be a murderer also. We may as well be comfortable while having this awful confession! Won’t you sit down? Now tell me why you let me talk to you yesterday when you knew I was at the wrong house?" "Because—because, you were’ Ao lovely and I was afraid you’d go. I wanted to have you stay and—and—say, I’m a stupid donkey, and here’s the money for the—whatever you call that stuff. The little boy I sent with • it went swimming instead. You must think me a muddlehead!” Roslna laughed again. "Oh, don’t go! Here you have a chance to talk to me and now you are running away.” Bob needed no second' invitation. (Coovright, 1914. by the McClure Newspaper Syndicate.)