Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 32, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 8 February 1917 — Margaret’s Tramp [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

Margaret’s Tramp

By JOHN ELKINS

(Copyright, 1917, by W. Q. Chapman.) "My goodness! Margaret! When will you ever stop~"giving money to .j " i Mrs. Tyson’s tone not only remonstrance, it savored of exasperation. “But, mother,” temporized the girl, “it was only a nickel." “YeS, hut when I'm trying to save five cents on a pair of stockings, it does seein as though you might think of me Instead of throwing out money to every beggar you meet. But you’re just like your father. If ever you get down to New York where you are so crazy to go, you’ll be held up by -tramps on every block, and the first thing you know you won’t have money 7 ■enough-to buy a meal.” x Margaret sighed a bit resignedly. There was no use trying to stem the Ude of her mother’s wAtth till It stopped. Presently she said; “It isn’t New York so much—it is what it offers. I can study art there «venings, and earn my living during .the day—that’s what I mean to do.” “Well not -with my consents Here you are making about as much as any girt in town, in a good steady position, and you are not satisfied.” “No, I’m not,” answered Margaret. *Tffl getting hlne dollars a week, and- —’’ “And you wouldn’t get that as a typist in New York, and you’d have

to pay out every cent for your board.” “Yes, but you're going with me, and keep the little home down there,” smiled Margaret. “No,” persisted the other firmly. “I’ve seen your father starve painting pictures, and watched him die of disappointment. I’m not going through it again.” There seemed to be something final last woirds. and the glrU felt Tt would’ be-useress to urge the matter any further. She could not leave her mother, as she was her sole support. But she could not give up her dream. Some time it must come true. After a while she said: “But all artists dou’t starve. There’s your cousin, Alton Faber, they say he’s rich, may be he would help me to—” “No, he wouldn’t,” snapped Mrs. Tyson, “Why didn’t he help your father? Cousins aren’t any good;” . So Margaret said no more. She went faithfully to her daily grind, and spent her spare time sketching everything she saw, without instruction of any kind. One day after she had returned from her work a man came to the d<>or asking for somothihir to eat. He was an elderly man, .clean and respectable looking, and Margaret’s sympathy was aroused. sorry,” she said.. ‘‘l IULVCIL-t-any. change, but I can give you some bread or something.” He thanked her, and glanced around the kitchen of the little home, as he stood at the open door. “May I sit down a minute?” he asked. “I am very tire-tk” —t—- “ Why, yes,” suid Margaret, motioning to*a chair. Her mother was not home, and she even dared to make a hot cup - of tearaitd—set tatt-tr i)luin but X’de t lunch for the nmn. “hut I had my pocket picked at the station. I have come quite a distance on the train, and I must walk quite a lofig way to reach a friend.” His voice and manner were those of a gentleman, and Margaret looked wonderingly at him. She saw lie- had stopped eating, and was gazing at a little charcoal sketch she had pinned up on the wall. “Who did that?” he asked. Margaret admitted that she had. It was a study of her mother in the act of roll'og out pie crust. “Pretty good drawing,” he ob.nerved. ‘‘But that right arm is a trifle out.” "Oh then you know—“A little,” he broke in dryly. Then Margaret told him how' she had never had any instruction’, how much she wanted it, and somehow she found herself growing confidential about the dear dream of her life to this entire stranger She asked btm if he knew at Alton Faber. Oh, yes, he knew

him; and his pictures were pretty good. She told him Air. Faber was a second cousin.' He did not seem to show any great interest in the disclosure, but gave his attention -to.' his cup of tea. he rose to go he thanked his entertainer courteously, and the next moment was gone. MrS. Tyson saw the stranger as he Went out. “Who was that?” she asked; “I only saw his back.” Margaret explained. “Well if that isn’t the limit 1” cried her irate parent. “Entertaining tramps in the house!"■ j ' “But, mother, he wasn’t a tramp!” ‘"Oil that was a nice little storyJL • They flit iHive one." r~ Margaret took her scolding quietly. Just to have had one take an interest in her little sketch, to look at it as though he knew, and to tell her where It*Was wrong was something worth all til*' trouble and nagging it entailed. About two weeks after, this Margaret received a letter bearing the New York postmark. It was from Alton Faber saying that If she would come «i.J .seeJJTTin.' bringing" some of her sketches, he might he able to help her to study. A check for the railroad fare to New York and back was inclosed. Mrs. Tyson nearly collapsed in her astonishment. “For heaven’s sake!" she gasped, “how did he know anything about' you?” Then Margaret confessed that over three weeks ago she had written to Alton Faber telling him of her ambiton, and asking his advice. “Well you' Just better send that money back,” advised her mother. “You’ll lose two or three days, aqd it, won’t amount to anything.” But Margaret was determined to go. and mentioned that the man had said Faber’s pictures were good. . , !} . mr rpTnnn “T qppjt nil T You talked to that man about going to New York, and this is just one of those awful plots to lure you down there to your ruin. I should think you had Heard enough about this white slave business not to fall into this snare. How do you know this letter is from Alton Faber. You wouldn’t know him if you saw him.” Margaret hud to admit there was some groundwork for her mother s suspicions, and her heart sank. But she did "not send the cheek hack, and at last got her mother to consent to go with her. _ ... , Mrs. Tyson at once recognized her relative in his spacious studio, but Margaret stood speechless with amazement. She saw before her the‘tramp’ chc had hcr-kitchen—— —"You see," he explained. “I hate killing hopes —least of all poor Ned’s daughter. I didn’t mean to bring you down here unless I knew, so I resorted to that little ruse. I hope I’m forgiven.” :: Margaret’s eyes with the tears trembling on the lashes were an eloquent answer. “I want you both tor come in that big hou:x, there is nothing hot a enretaker in it now, and Margaret can study with me.” j^—- ' ■■— — • . So Margaret’s dream came true. •

“Who Did That?” He Asked.