Life — June 24, 1920 — page 22: what you’re looking at

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

-LIFE. The Landing of the Pilgrims on Plymouth Rock AITLAND GREEN was one of those punctilious men who never di His great success in the any- thing by halves. commercial world was due entirely to his planning things beforehand and running schedule. He friend Herbert Dolby, who was a quiet, studious fellow, and when he heard that Dolby's ona -dored his wife had gone on a visit, he called him up and that Dolby week-end with him. There seemed noth- ing for Dolby to do but say yes. “T'll fix the thing up with you in the mornin aid Green. “ To-night I'll go fe.” insisted spend the over the details with my wi The next morning Green appeared in Dolby's office. “Everything's been arranged,” he said, “and it’s the greatest pleasure of my life to have you with us. Believe in things up right. So I'll just run over this schedule.” He produced a typewritten paper, “Checked up by my wife,” he chu “Nothing like getting the old lady's O. K. We arrive on the train that gets to Sum- mertown at four-thirty. Right for you?” Dolby nodded. AS WE PICTURE IT FROM THE VERSIONS OF THE POETS, AND— It Happened at Green’s Car at runabout station. Got a brand-new We'll do before six—won- everything on high. up the whole country derful run. When we get back, just run you over house and grounds—spent thirty thousand fixing it up—looks great—want all—all modern a you to see i pliances— four dogs. Bath at seven—suit you? “ Dinner togs will do. Dinner at seven- forty-five—small party of sixteen. Bridge. Small stakes—you play, of course—half a cent—we break up about one, with supper at twelve—something light—hope you like mushrooms—raised on place—wait till you see it. Bed at two. How's that?” hat seems—good ake rather early start in morning, Breakfast at seven-forty-five, as I have to be at the Country Club at eight-thirty. We play thirty-six holes—more if you say so. Bet- ter make it forty-five; through at—well, say two. Will two be all right?” “Y-e-s." “Luncheon as we have a lot to do. at club. Motor to Ques- senning ‘in afternoon—only eighty miles Wonderfulinn, Tea with mother and the girls. Back at eight. Must be home then, as we've got some more people coming in.” “More people?” “Yep. Story-tellers’ club. Know any good ones?—but of course you do—stag party—got some fine old stuff to go along fellow from New York to entertain us. How about Monday morning?” “T must get back.” “ Eight-thirty suit you? about three. We'll break up Make it nine if you say so.” Guess you'd better make it nine.” “All right, sir, That's settled. Just wanted to have it understood in a general Meet you at Penna this afternoon at three-fifteen sharp. Wonderful to have you with us, old man, Full up to-day. way. S'long!” Dolby’s mail began to swim before his He thought of his steady wife, so far away. No help from that quarter. He began to go over the hideous details of his coming visit. Mushrooms! They would kill him. Bridge! He played a rotten game. Golf! He played eighteen holes twice a month. People! Strangers confused him, He began to feel dizzy. comicbooks.com