Mary Raymond Shipman Andrews

“ But of a morning about mail time, in broad daylight, the walls seem mere boxes holding commonplace or comedy. By the white magic of fiction a story reader may go about a town—why not?—and know whatever is necessary to the situation.
On a morning, then, soon after May 30, Decoration Day, the postmen of the rising city of Brightwater delivered the mail. The bell buzzed at Reginald Towner's house as Reginald himself was sitting down to breakfast. Mrs. Towner, having breakfasted in her room an hour before, was, nevertheless, present to pour coffee for her spoiled darling, who liked this ceremony. ”

“ But Mrs. Mayor had thrown her compass overboard. "I will give orders about this. You shall not go."
The mayor rose and stood; a trifle pale he was. "Dorothy, I shall use my own judgment."
"Oh, don't go, Frederick," wailed Dorothy, and burst into tears.
The mayor began to show excitement. "Don't you see, you've forced my hand—I've got to go," he let off in flights. "I've got to go." The mayor was a short, bald man; he threw out his arms and bobbed his head. Dorothy lifted a tear-stained face from the breakfast napkin and swabbed one eye with a minor handkerchief. ”

“ Mind, now, you're susceptible, old Reggie. A sweet young thing—admires you more than she can possibly—with one s—tell you. You'll have to be a strong, firm character. But run along and play, and then come home to mother. That's the scheme. Isn't it?"
Reginald Towner pulled at that long, fair mustache thoughtfully. He stopped pulling and imbibed a last drop of coffee. He set the cup down. "Jove, Nan—I can't let you be more of a sport than I am. That is the scheme. I'll do it."
Lilac was an agitating color to more than one Brightwater breakfast-table. ”

“ The colonel rumpled his hair—it was going a thin on top. "Well—I don't know," he reflected. "Rather a lark to go and see what the little beggar has to say—eh?"
Mrs. Bigelow's face set further. "I ask you to do no such thing, Henry," she brought out. "I'm your wife. What right has any other woman to 'admire you,' as this"—tapping the letter—"bold creature says."
The colonel grinned. "I wouldn't prevent the sweet things from admiring me if they want to," he reasoned ingenuously. “I don't mind that. That doesn't hurt anybody. ”

“ Listen, Sandy."
And so, sitting in the woods by the sea, her hand in her lover's, laughing, happy, adding step to inspired step, Annie wiggled it out.
Sometimes, going along a city street late at night, one wonders how it would be if the fronts of the houses could be lifted off. There would be rows of people at odd angles asleep in beds; where a light glimmers there might be a girl in evening dress, home from a ball, dancing a reminiscent fox-trot down her room; or a woman happily writing a letter; or a man anxiously pacing a room, maybe ”

“ And the spotlight shifted, and the little stage blurred, and when it was clear again, behold the Lorelei still manipulating the comb of gilt through the cloud of hair! but the placard now read: "Adams's Lorelei Hair Tonic makes hair grow on rocks." ”

“ Sandy called it a "chemist's shop," but the American for that is "drug-store." By whatever name, not yet was he making enough for the two to get married.
"If I could afford to advertise well, it would bring things quite right," Sandy said. "The little shop has a fair list of patrons, and we've got the agency for Adams's Lorelei Hair Tonic, and that's a very good thing. But we need advertising. If only I could get a new way that wouldn't come too dear. I'm not clever at imagining things like you, Annie," stated Sandy humbly. ”

“ Mrs. Bigelow pronounced. "But it served all the others right. And that—and that young girl—I owe her an an apology. She was simply at attending to her own husband, or fiancé, anyhow. I think well of those young people, Hennery. I'll go to that shug-drop—shup-drog, no, drup-shog hereafter for whatever we get in that line."
"All right, Girlie. Good for you," said the colonel amiably, and with one more reminiscent grin took up his half-read paper.
Meanwhile, as all over the town men told the story to or kept it from their wives, in the little room behind the drug-store Annie and Sandy gloated. ”

“ He had said he would not go to Bath and River Streets to-night. No, he had not. He had said he would not meet Miss Curly Brown. Well? Was he going to meet her? He was going to get toothache medicine for his wife. Of course, there were other drug-stores! But this was the nearest; Mrs. Bigelow had begged him to hurry.
What nonsense to hesitate about a footless bit of silliness! Then the colonel grinned broadly in the darkness; it was a manner of lark; the colonel had plenty of boyishness in him still. The lever slid into low gear ”