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_______ ~rnret VOLUME xxxvii. LAURENS, SOUTH CAROLINA, WEDNESDAY, OCTOBER 5, 1921.NUBR1 igh PART ONE By the end of October, with the dis persal of that foliage which has served all suminer long as a pleasant screen for whatever small privacy may exist between American neighbors, we begin to get our autunm high tides of gos sip. At this season of the year, in our towns of moderate size and ambition, where apartment houses have not yet condensed an( at the same time sequestered the population, one may secure visual command of back yard beyond back yard, both up and down the street; especially if one takes the trouble to sit for an hour or so, daily, upon the top of a high board fence at about the middle of a block. Of course an adult who followed such a course would be thought pe culiar; no doubt he would be subject to undesirable comment, and presently might be called upon to parry severe if, indeed not hostile inquiries; but boys are considered so inexplicable that they have gathered for them selves any privileges denied their parents and elders; and a boy can do such a thing as this to his full content, without anybody's thinking about it at all. So it was that Herbert Illings worth Atwater, Jr., aged thirteen and a few months, sat for a considerable time upon such a fence, after school hours, every afternoon of the last week In October; and only one person par ticularly observed him or was stimu latod to any mental activity by his procedure. Even at that, this person was affected only because she was Herbert's relative, and of an age sym pathetic to his-and of a sex antipa thetic. In spite of the fact that Herbert Il lingsworth Atwater, Jr., thus seriously disporting himself on his father's back fence, attracted only this audience of one (and she hostile at a rather dis tant window) his behavier really should have been considered piquant ly interesting by anybody. After climb ing to the;, op of the fence he would produce from interior pockets a small memorandum book and a pencil; sel dom putting these implements to im mediate use. His expression was gravely alert, his manner more than businesslike; yet nobody could have failed to comprehend that he was en joying himself, especially when his at titude became tense-as at times it certainly did. Then he would rise, bal ancing himself at adroit ease, his feet aligned one before the other on the inner rail, a foot below the top of the boards, and with eyes dramatically shielded beneath a scoutish palm, he would gaze sternly in the direction of some object or motion which had at tracted his attention; and then, having Mie Would Alt Again and Decisively Enter a Note in His Memorandum Book. satisfied himself of something or other, he would sit again and decisively en ter a note in his memorandum book. Hie was not always alone; he was frequently joined by a friend, male, and, though shorter thnn Herbert, qiuite as ol; andu t his comp~anion was inIPtred. it seeumed.' hy motives pre .. vI y e s 6 F.19 21- by -teBellStndicatel1nc, cisely similar to those from which sprang llerbert's own actions. Like lierhert, he would sit upon the top of the high fence, usually at a little is lance from him; like Herbert he would rise at intervals, for the better study of something thisl side of the horizon ; then, also concluding like 1vierhert, lie would sit again and write fIrmly in a little notebook. And sel ,lon in the history of the world have any sessions been invested by the par ielpints with so intentional an ap prenrance of importance. 1i was what most injured their I i observer at the somewhat distant back window, upstairs at her own plrwe of residence; she found their im portaice almiost impossible to bear without screining. 1ler provocation was grent ; the important importance of ilerer twni1 his friend, Impressive ly maneuvering upon their fence, was so extreume its to be all too plainly visa ible neross four intervening broad back yardls; in fact, there was almost reason to suspect that the two per formern were aware of their audience and even of her goaded condition; and that they sometimes deliberately in creased the oitrageousness of their Importance because they knew she was watching them. And upon the Saturday of that week, when the note book writers were upon the fence at intervals throughout the afternoon, F'lorence Atwater's fascinated indigna tion became vocal. "Vile things t" she said. Her mother, sewing beside another window of the room, looked up in quiringly. "What are, Florence?" "Cousin Herbert and that nasty lit tle Henry Rooter." "Are you watching them again?" her mother asked. "Yes, I am," said Florence, tartly. "Not because I care to, but merely to amuse myself at their expense." Mrs. Atwater murmured deprecat Ingly, "Couldn't you find some other way to amuse yourself, Florence?" "I don't call this amusement," the inconsistent girl responded, not with out chagrin. "Think I'd spend all my days starin' at Herbert Illingsworth Atwater, Junior, and that nasty little Henry Rooter, and call it amusement?" "Then why do you do it?" "Why do I do what, mama?' Flor ence inquired as if in despair of Mrs. Atwater's ever learning to put things clearly. "Why do you 'spend all your days' watching them? You don't seem able to keep away from the window, and it appears to make you irritable. I ehould think if they wouldn't let you play with them you'd be too proud-" "Oh, good heavens, mama I" "Don't use expressions like that, Florence, please." "Well." said Florence, "I got to use some expression when you accuse me of wantin' to 'play' with those two vile things I My goodness mercy, mama, I don't want to 'play' with 'em I I'm more than four years old,' I guess; though you don't ever seem willing to give me credit for it. I don't haf to 'play' all the time, mama ; and, any way. Herbert and that nasty little Henry Rooter aren't playing, either." "Aren't they?" Mrs. Atwater in Quired. "I thought the other day you said you wanted them to let you play at being a newspaper reporter, or edi tor, or something like that, with them, and they were rude and told you to go away. Wasn't that it?' Florence sighed. "No, mama, it cert'nly wasn't." "They weren't rude to you?' "Yes, they cert'nly wbre I" "Well, then-" "Mama, can't you understand?' Florence turned from the window to beseech Mrs. Atwater's concentration upon the matter. "It isn't 'playing I' I didn't want to 'play' being a report er; they ain't 'playing' "Aren't playing, Florence." "Yes'm. They're not. Herbert's got a real printing press ; Uncle Jo seph gave it to him. It's a real one, mama, can't you understand?' "I'll try," said Mrs. Atwater. "You mustn't get so excited about it, Flor ence." "I'm not i" Florence turned vehe mently. "I guess it'd take more than those two vile things and their old printir,' press to get me excit ed I don't enr* whait they do; it's far less than no'ltiner to me! All 1 mvisi s they'd fall off the fence and break their vile ole necks I" With this manifestation of Imper sonal calmness, she turned again to the window; but her mother protest ed. "Do find something else to amuse you, Florence; and quit watching those foolish boys; you mustn't let them upset you so by their playing." Florence moaned. "They don't 'up set' me, mama i They have no effect on me by the slightest degree I And I told you, mama, they're not 'playing.'" "Then what are they doing?" "Well, they're having a newspaper. They got the printing press and an offlce in Herbert's ole stable, and ev erything. They got somebody to give 'em some ole banisters and a railing from a house that was torn (Iown somewheres, and then they got it stuck up in the stable loft, so it runs across with a. kind of a gate in the middle of these banisters, and on one side is the printing press, and the other side they got a desk from that nasty little Henry Rooler's mother's attle; and a table and some chairs, and a map on the wail; and that's their newspaper office. They go out and look for what's the news. and write it (own in ink; and then Ohey go through the gate to the other side of the railing where the printing press Is, and print it for their newspaper." "But what do they do on the fence so much?" 'That's where they go to watch what the news Is," Florence explained morosely. "They think they're so grand, sittin' up there, pokin' around. They go other places, too; and they ask people. That's all they said I could be l" Here the lady's bitterness became strongly Intensifled. "They said, maybe I could be one o' the ones they asked If I knew anything, some times, if they happen to think of Itl I just respectf'ly told 'em I'd decline to wipe my oldest shoes on 'em to save their lives I" Mrs. Atwater sighed. "You mustn't use such expressions, Florence." "I don't se4 why not," the daughter objected. "They're a lot more refined than the expressions they used on me I" "Then I'm very glad you didn't play with them." But at this, Florence once more gave way to filial despair. "Mama, you just can't see through anything!. I've said anyhow fifty times they ain't -aren't playIng i They're getting up a real newspaper, and people buy it, an(d everything. They have been all over this part of town and got every aunt and uncle they have, besides their own fathers and mothers, and some people in the neIghborhood, and Kitty Silver and two or three other colored people besides, that work for families they know. They're going to charge twenty-five cents a year, collect-in-ad vance b'lause they want the money first; and even papa gave 'em a quar ter last night; he told me so." "How often do they publish their paper, Florence?" Mrs. Atwater in quired somewhat absently, having re sumued her sewing. "Every week; and they're goin' to have the first one a week from to day." "What do they call it?" "The North End Daily Oriole. It's the silliest name I ever heard for a newspaper; and I told 'em so. I told 'em what I thought of it, I guess I" "Was that the reason?" Mrs. At water asked. "Was it what reason, mama?" "Was it the reason they wouldn't let you be a reporter with them?" "Pooh I" Florence exclaimed airily. "I didn't want anything to do with their ole paper. But anyway I didn't make fun o' their callin' it the North Enad Daily Oriole till after they said I couldn't be in It. Then I did, you bet I" "Florence, don't say-" "Mama, I got to say somep'm!I Well, I told 'emi I wouldn't be in their ole paper if they begged me on their bent edl knees; and I saId if they begged me a thousand years I wouldn't be in any paper with such a crarzy name; andl I wouldn't tell 'em any news if I knew tho President of the United States had the scarlet fever I I just politely informed 'em they could say what they liked if they was dying; I dleclined so much as wipe the oldest shoes I got on 'em I" "But why wouldn't they let you be on the paper?" her mother inslsted. Upon this Florence became analyti cal. "Just so's they could act so im portant I" And she addded, as a con sequence: "They ought to be arrest edi." Mrs. Atwater murmured absently, but forbore to press her inquiry ; and Florence was silent, in a brooding mood. The journalists upon the fence had disappeared from view, during the conversation with her mother ; and presently she sighed and quietly left the room. She went to her own apart ment, whore, at a small and rather battered little white desk, after a pe riod of earnest reverie, she took up a pen, wet thme point In purple ink, and without any greut effnrt or nny c..t-. Cal delayings, produced a poem. It was, in a sense, an original poem; though, like the greater number of all literary offerings, it was so strongly inspirntional that the source of its Inspiration might easily become mani est to t cold-blooded reader. Never theless, to 'the poetess herself, as she explained later in good faith, the words just seemed to coie to lier-doubtless with either genius or sone form of miracle involved; for sources of in spiration are seldom recognized by In spired writers themselves. She had not long ago been party to a musical Sunday afternoon at her great-uncle Joseph Atwater's house where Air. Do Yo Save IA Then & Sweaters a Price Men's $8.00 Dret lasts, brown a them for . Ladies' $5.00 Dr( narrow and v brown, carryir for . Children's Schoo and Witt's to fi Priced from $1 Boys' School pani Ladies' 5Oc Brass 27-inch Sea Island, 30-inch Sea Island, f Best Apron Ginghar 32-inch Dress Gingli Work-and-Play Clot Heavy Cheviots, soli Men's Blue Buckle ( Heavy Work Shirts Ladies' 50c Lisle TI Men's 25c Lisle Soci All-wool Blue Serge Men's Dress Shirts Boys' Blue Serge Ca Boys' Overalls, heal Ladies' Pure Silk H< Don't Buy any Shoei Cohen Dr .The More Oldye,iiie naiabe and ~olij baritone, sang sorne of his songs ove; and over again, as long as the re quests for thein hold out. Florence'i poemi nlay have begun to- coagulat within her then. 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