Judge — December 4, 1915 — page 10: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

Amethyst paused, and the smoke of his cigar made a little blue aureole about his kindly features. “The memory of the moment when first my eyes fell upon Gertrude must remain forever chaste and beautiful. I had called to see Mrs. Knowles on a ‘lead’ given me by my real estate firm; it was my purpose to persuade the lady to invest some of the money which we understood she was soon to possess in the excellent prop- erty we were selling. “(As I entered the room in which Mrs. Knowles had graciously consented to see me, I tripped over a Persian rug: Gertrude’s tiger cat spat at me, hissed and fled between my legs; I was at the mo- ment executing some particularly ornate athletics in an endeavor to keep my feet. “Gertrude smiled. The smile was, perhaps, the rarest it has ever been the fortune of Amethyst Jones to behold. I smiled. ‘Mrs. Knowles,’ I said, ‘I hope that I have not annoyed your cat “Not at all,’ said she—he always does that when he is pleased.’ Her voice was so musical, so magical, that I felt myself embarrassed by the sordidness of my errand. ‘Mrs. Knowles, I find myself with so little of worthy warrant for being in a presence like yours that I must ask you to forgive me. I had understood that you wished to purchase real estate:—allow me to say that I shall not mention it unless you wish. If you will permit me to retire, I will report to my firm that it is exceedingly improbable that you would care at all to invest in anything like purely mundane property. I sincerely beg your pardon for this intrusion.’ “T shall never forget her glorious compassion. ‘Mr. She said: IN FLORIDA, TOO, THE CHRISTMAS BELLES ARE Jones, we can talk—can we not—of matters other than real estate? It is a wild night, without. Pray be seated.’ “T sank into a chair. She gracefully reposed upon a divan facing me. I forgot my firm. “Ecstasy possessed my soul. Gertrude was divine femininity expressed in poetic form. Her figure was a dream the like of which my poor words cannot describe: there was that tempered luxuri- ance of perfect nature which suggests exquisite art; yet Gertrude was not artful. She was simple, superlative, as God made her. “Forgive my digression: Gertrude sat upon the divan. In no long time, I, too, sat upon the divan. It was not the only occasion. So frequently I sat there that our hearts became glad because of one another. In short, we loved. “After a weck’s courtship, a week of roses and songs and sighs, we were engaged to be married. We became engaged on Christ- mas day. Do you wonder that I never forget it? It made that Christmas by far the happiest I ever knew.” The eyes of Amethyst Jones sought the vista of the long pas- sageway whence refreshments were brought. It was not until the cordials had been sipped, that he spoke: “Gertrude and I were engaged,” he repeated; ‘“‘yet, because of certain uncertainties, we were but provisionally engaged. And then—her case was discon- tinued.” “She couldn’t get her divorce Rixe: No,” said Amethyst, “she couldn’t. The unexpected demise of the person who had been her husband, which occurred some days before her divorce suit against him was to be decided, placed us in a position of extreme delicacy. His will, still extant, provided that if his wife remarried, his entire fortune was to go to the Home for Indigent Females.” Justin Johnson groaned. Amethyst smiled. “I released Gertrude,” he said, with a tear in his eye. “What else could a gentleman do?” sagaciously exclaimed Charlie Apparently Mrs. Cobwigger—1 wonder .why Freddie hung up his two stockings? Cobwigger—It looks to me as if he wanted to get there with both feet. Changing Seasons, Crabshaw—Ever see anything of that fellow who used to borrow your lawn-mower last summer? Suburbs —He’s just been around after my car to carry home his WRINGING wife’s Christmas bundles.