Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 242, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 15 October 1918 — THE BOOKWORM [ARTICLE]

THE BOOKWORM

By VINCENT G. PERRY.

(Copyright, 1918, by McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) < Raymond Walsh was a puzzle to the villagers of Willgreen. At the age of twenty-five he was not even givingmarriage a thought. Nothing seemed to interest him but books and hisestate. Sarah Morley, who had been postmistress for thirty years (this was a fact Sarah hoped no one could remember), kept the village posted ,on his activities.- The first year he haff been home from college he had taken; a correspondence course in law, then he had switched off to short-story writing and later had studied the keeping of bees and the culture of mushrooms. He was always trying something new, but kept on with the olff things he had learned, adding to his hobbies almost moifthly. Raymond did not find time for social life. It did not interest him in the least. He attended church every Sunday morning and sat in the Walsh pew all by himself. “What do you suppose he is studying now?" Miss Temple exclaimed, breathlessly, as she hurried into the meeting of the T. G. C. (This might have stood for Town Gossip club.) Every member knew who she meant but before they could offer a guess she had told them, “Veterinary surgery ! What do you think of it?” Thediscussion* that followed did credit to the volubility of the members of the T. G. C. Little Miss Audrey Dunbar from the city was an interested visitor.

“Why, auntie, what Is it all about?” she asked. “Who is this man, and whydoes everyone criticize him so severely?” . They were only too glad to tell her all about Raymond. After the meeting Audrey felt an Irresistible longing to meet this “oddity” of the village. The sunshine suggested a stroll in the direction of the Walsh estate. Just as she neared the Walsh estate a dog limped toward her. Struck with a sudden thought, she coaxed the animal to her and examined.its injured foot. It was broken, she felt sure. It was a big, dirty cur, T>y all appearances, but nevertheless she picked it up in her arms and walked boldly through the gate that led to the Walsh home. She almost let the dog fall as she caught sight of a tall, good-looking man weeding in the garden, but regained her courage and kept right on. He dropped his hoe as he caught sight of her, and ran to meet her. “What has happened?” he asked. “My dog has been injured,” she said. “Whatever will I do? I should not have brought him from the city with me. Oh, is his leg broken? Do not wiggle so, dear Fldo.” Raymond smiled falntjy, as he took the dog frpm her and rested it on the grass. “No, it is not broken,” Tie announced, “but needs attention.” “Poor ojfi Rover-—Fldo, I mean I” Audrey corrected her mistake hurriedly. She hoped Raymond had not noticed it.

“I will carry him to the kennels. I have hospital equipment there,” Raymond said, as he looked up from the dog. .Fldo seemed quite at home in the kennels. All he required was . the rest cure, apparently, for Raymond left him to show Audrey about the place. “It is wonderful,** she told him enthusiastically. “Everything is perfect. You must be a genius to’ have a knowledge of so many things.” He laughed. “The villagers here think I'am a lunatic. You are the first outsider to go over this estate for fiveyears. Nobody takes any interest in me.

Once the ice had been broken Audrey called often to see how “Fldo" - was getting on. She left him entirely In Raymond’s care. But visits,don’t last forever, and one day she announced that she was going home tn the city. “I am sorry,” Raymond said sadly. “I will miss you more than you can realize.” “Will you?” she asked earnestly. “I certainly will.” With an effort he changed the subject. “You will take Fido home you, of course. He is right at home here,” Audrey blushed furiously. “He is not really my dog,” she confessed. “I never saw him before that day. He is just a poor dog I picked up. I wanted to meet you, and that was the way I went about it.” Raymond was laughing. “I knew it all along,” he, too, confessed. “He 1b my of the best,l own, aren’t* you, Jip, old boy?” The recovered Fidn danced around his master in acknowledgment. ' “You must have thought I was terrible,” she cried, horror-stricken. “It was a dreadful thing to do.” “It waa a sweet thing to do. Everything you do aft<j say is sweet. Just think how happy your deception has made me. I love you, dear, and if it was not that I knew you hated villagelife so much I would ask you to become my wife.” “Village life! What difference does that make? Of course I will becomeyour wife, even if we had to live on a desert Island.” # “You won’t have to live here always. I have been doing some experimenting: for the government and I have a chance for an appointment in the agricultural department. If I accept it . wb can live in the dty part of the timeand have this for our Summer home,”" "Lovely,” she cried. “After all, it won’t matter where we live, for love will make us happy anywhere."