Judge — March 25, 1916 — page 9: what you’re looking at

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

WHERE INNOCENCE 1S BLISS HE was one of those dear, innocent little maidens, with the cherubic face framed in golden curls so oft immortalized by poets and painters. Lovingly watched over by doting parents, for nine short rs she had flowered in the seclusion of her home, spend- aceful days in company with her equally sweet-faced ng with her dolls and toys. No other little maiden’s simple pleasures—Mother and Father thought it better so, in case their baby’s opening mind should be rudely brought into contact with the wicked world out- side. Just occasionally in the holidays Cousin Phil came to spend a week or two, that was all, and M was always glad at these times, for she loved Phil; they were tremendous pals. One lovely summer morning Maisie walked with her father in the garden. He was telling her about a great event that had happened in the night. The fairies had left her a little baby sister! Maisie’s eyes filled witht a growing wonder as her father unfolded the glorious news. Father was saying how yesterday evening he had come into the garden and found the fairies playing there in the twilight. These wee folk had told him to look under the rose-bushes and take what- ever he found there. He looked, and there, underneath a lovely crimson rambler, he had found a dear little baby girl; so he gently lifted her up and took her in to Mummy, and they were ge her as a playmate for her—Maisie, and Phil. Maisie’s face was wreathed in delighted smiles as she looked up into her father’s face and said softly: “Daddy, may I write and tell Phil about this new baby sister?” “My darling, yes,” was the reply, “go, now, and tell him about the lovely present the fairies have given us.” That night Maisie’s father found on the table a letter addressed in her quaint crooked handwriting, to Phil, all ready for posting “Dear little innocent,” he murmured lovingl. wonder now, what she has told him; shall 1? Yes, I must open it and see.” He broke the seal and scanned the page. A baffled expression spread over his face, and the hand holding the sheet shook slightly the “dear little innocent ” had written, ing the pe governess, or quietly pla: children ever shared this as he read wh: “Dear Phil: “You owe me a bob; it’s a girl. With much love. “From Maisie Blanketed She—You'd think he'd cut’ more ice! Revolution, and— He—I know—but he married a daughter of the resolution. He's a son of the Cause for Rejoicing everything out your way?” ner than frog-hair!”’ triumphantly replied Mr. Gap John- son, of Rumpus Ridge, Ar! To be shore, it was so dry last summer that I didn’t anything worth telling about, and my wife chopped herself on the knee with a broad-axe a month or so ago and hain’t been much account since; and four or five of the children are down with the measles right now, and my Uncle Rasp died on us a while back of something or nuther, and Providence scen fit to burn the north end off’m the house a spell ago, and one of my horses choked to death last week, and such as that. But— law-suzz!—two of my hounds has got six pups apiece. Peartest little scamps you ever laid your eyes on!”—Tom P. Morgan. “AMID BOS LUI BREAKING GROUND FOR A NEW HOME comicbooks.com