Life — December 25, 1902 — page 46: what you’re looking at

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

18 **Good-by, dear,” he said. Mrs. Witherby was not surprised. was not her present business to be sur- prised. “ Good-by, dear,”’ she said,“ know that nothing can happen to you, as long as my thoughts surround you.”” “Same to you,” replied her husband, He went out to the barn and got into his automobile. * he said to himself, “is be the greatest case of absent treatment that ever happened. Ill prove which of us is right.” And in another minute he was speeding off into the country, where he could be entirely alone for the necessary length of time which he hoped would accomplish his purpose. There was a certain inn that offered the best accommodations for man and machine —a place where he could apply himself tohis task without interruption. Thither he went. The next afternoon he came back, his face pale and haggard with the intense mental application of his twenty-four hours’ almost unremitting thought, but serene and confident. As he walked upstairs to his wife’s room, and opened it quietly, he was con- scious of a change. Mrs. Witherby sprang up immediately as he came in. “ Where in the world have you been?’’ she asked, fretfully. ‘What do you mean by leaving me in this manner?” Witherby chuckled to himself. Things looked promising. “What doI mean?" he repeated. “IT AN INVENTIVE RLECTRIC EEL BUILT MIMSELP AN AUTOMOBILE ; BB NEEDS NO GASOLINE, COMPRESSED AIR OR STEAM— NE ATTACDES WIS TAIL TO THE WHEEL. CHRISTMAS AT THE WHITE HOUSE. Teddy: told you I had some important work to do. You didn’t miss me, did you? Haven't you got that blessed book? I thought that was all you needed.”” “Now, you needn't be sarcastic,” said Mrs. Witherby. ‘* You know it makes me uneasy to have you out of the house,” Witherby mentally patted himself on the back. ** Good,’’ he said to himself. is what I hoped.” ‘* Well,” he exclaimed, ‘I am back again. Aren’t you glad? Won't you kiss me? ”’ She came over and embraced him. “Of course Iam glad,” she said, “I have a confession to make. Dear, I have been thinking it over during the “This CONFOUND IT! THE SAME OLD PRESENTS OVER AGAIN | time you have been away, and I have found myself gradually drifting back to the common sense standpoint. After all, I don’t think there is so much in that new belief as I did. Do you know, after you left, I began to see the folly of it plainly. I’m not going to be a Christian Scientist any more.”* Witherby patted her on the cheek. “T am the happiest man alive,” he replied. ‘* You’ll never regret it.”” And a little later, as he sat smoking by the open fire, with Connio by his side, he said solemnly to that wise dog: “Old man, I knew if I could cure you, I could cure her!” Tom Masson, comicbooks.com