Evening Republican, Volume 22, Number 14, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 16 January 1919 — THE BETTER MAN [ARTICLE]

THE BETTER MAN

By MARY PARSONS.

(Copyright, 1918, by McClure Newspaper ■' Syndicate.) _. “Barbara, dear. I’m so mixed up. I don’t know what in the world to do — please help me!” f "Wb.-it's the’ trouble, now, child —is it\Sarn or Charley?” ‘■‘Xeitiier 1 mean lieili. I ‘lon’t know which I'm in love with. I think it’s -Ham till Charley comes to see me, and ffien~Tffe~ Is ~sb good' just like a <-<>ll;>r ad—and lie l->oi;s at me so .deeply-—you know hew-I me :pi—lhatitliink .I'niallwrong a-M.lt) and it miist be he. He’s ever so much more popular with the girls, too. Now, Sam never says any of the nice little things Charley does, and he's ever co blunt sometimes, but smn> lmw T don't know. I'm not sure, but V think Sam is tlie better man. You’re older and wiser than I am, Barbara; tell me why you admire Sam umre. L've_ itLwavs_ thought you did whisiever I talk about them, but you've never said anything. I’lease tell me.” The older girl got up end walked over io the window. For a moment she did not say anything.- Then site sauk..hit<>'a sent vdtii-a little. sigh. _ “Polly, child there isn’t anything in tlie world I—know against Charley —it wouldn't be fair to say there was, for he may care for you even-more Than—■l think he does—but I’m going to tell you a little story, if you hate thne-m listen.” . “Of course, Babs,” assured Polly, settling lier attractive little person into,a perfect nest of cushions. "Once, upon a time.” began-Barbara, “there was a girl—not a beautiful girl —jipit a ' bright, frank, cheerful girl, with a sense of humor nnd lots of friends. She liked men sincerely, hut she was neither very susceptible nor -very-foolish,—and she had seen sorne--thing of life. “There was one than site had -known for a long time, and she always admired ami liked him tremendously. “So they went out together, danced together and talked together, and he was very nice to her. She found that she could talk to him as she had never been able to talk to anyone before, and he always seemed to understand. She began to value his friendship, above all her othei p friends, and to depend on his' help and advice in many little things. He liked to help her, and as the months passed they grew to be better ami better friends, with a'clearer understanding of each other than they had ever had. “Then, she went away for a lons visit. And he almost made, her believe that he would really miss Her badly—and she was very glad. “And she wrote to him naturally, as 3 child would write to a very favorite unde or a dear kind friend who w,o older and wiser than she, long, newsy letters about all the daily happenings—and she dearly loved to write to him. “He wrote to her twice; then there was q long lapse. Then, a third letter came which might have been written to an utter stranger with perfect safety—air and weather being the main topics. This was after she had' impulsively written to him for help and sympathy over what seemed to her a v< ry great trouble, and he had failed her—dismally failed her. She wrote to him once more, but she never sent the letter. She could not thrust her friendship upon him if he did not want it. -= -i‘ATid-fh*>Hghshcw'asbfnm<ltonYeef hinr and did not wish t<> obviously avoid him, she did not need to. for he showed no desire for any sort of a meeting and flitted about among the girls ns he had probably always done Ami she tried always to be fair to him and not to judge him—she liked to remember him rather as a friend who had died than one who had ceased to value her friendship—she simply could r>'t understand. That’s, all I know about Charley and it’s two years ago—, he's probably forgotten all about It l<Xig ago. * . , “That’s till. Polly dear. It isn’t- 3 much of a story, but I thought I’d tell it tc you. Somehow, from my own standards, it doesn't seem to me as if a man w’ho would hurt anyone so cruelly, so blindly and with such utter indifference, could measure up to quite the saiije standard as a man like Sam, who is-fair and square in everything he does. ” , , - Polly sat still for a long time after Barbara “stopped talking. “Thank yoiffor telling me the story,” she said nt last. „ A maid came to the "door with a telegram. Polly glanced at the address, seized it and tore it open hastily. In a moment the paper dropped to tht floor. — . ■ ‘" “It’s from Sam,” she gulped, “and he’s going to the froht, and he wants me to tell him before he goes—they wi.n't let him off to come himself —oh, dear, it's terrible!" “t/hat are you going- to write tc him?” ”» “Write to him!— why. I’m going tc that camp tonight—just as fast as 1 can pack mother’s bag and my own; if they only let me see him for five minutes. I haven't any choice in the jß^tter —there never I it all as plain as the nose on my face—life's the better man. the best man—the very best the world as far as I am concerned, as least, and I ought to have known it all along. Kiss me. Barbara ; I’ll hhve to hurry.' Whes , yop . gee- me agahi - I’ll ■ , .Sanuk, Good-by, dear—l’ll have to break the tifews t© mother—good-by!” »• -