Argosy All-Story Weekly — page 156: what you’re looking at

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

782 got a sort of hunch that she won't object at all.” Most fervently Jack trusted that Peggy’s “hunch ” might prove correct. Anyway, they soon would know; Jack believed in having unpleasant matters, such as a visit to the dentist or the like, over with as soon as might be. Together, therefore, he and Peggy went upstairs to Aunt Sophronia’s room. As they went, three facts became manifest; that Aunt Sophronia was in her room, that she was not asleep and that the good news con- cerning Phil and Mr. Ayres already had reached her, presumably by telephone. From within her apartment there issued the sounds of something that closely resembled a squabble, carried on—anxiously peevish on his part, cheerily, but impatiently de- cisive on hers—between Aunt Sophronia and Dr. Gray. “What mnonsense;” she was saying. “Weren’t you just tellin’ me that both Phil and Edith needed a long rest and change of scene? Then hasn’t there got to be a wedding, right away? And do you suppose that weddings are arranged by lying in bed and thinking about ’em? Don’t be silly!” It was at this moment that Jack and Peggy, hand in hand, appeared in the open doorway. Something in their faces must have told their story. At any rate Aunt Sophronia asked no questions. She was sit- ting up in bed. — As she saw them, an ex- pression of perfect joy spread over her as . she held out both arms to them. THE U U ARGOSY-ALLSTORY WEEKLY, ‘You children—you blessed children!” she cried. ‘‘ You’ve done as Phil and Edith have done—and as Edward Ayres and I hoped you'd do from the time you were born!” They kissed her, and were kissed. She hugged them, an arm around each; then, pushing them gently away, turned once more toward the doctor. ‘“T tell you I’m not sick,” said she. “What in the world have I got to make me sick? Go out of the room—all of you; I want to get up.” Dr. Gray gave up. There was no help for it. They all left the room, and closed the door behind them. Yet Aunt So- phronia did not at once rise, but instead took from under her pillow a leather-bound manuscript book—the book of old So- phronius. Searching its yellowed leaves with accustomed fingers she found a passage and read it aloud, though to herself. “When, successfully or Otherwise, one hath Concluded a Fight, it is best that one should put both the Fight and the late An- tagonists out of one’s Mind as soon as it can be Accomplished. For thus will one not only preserve Happiness, but also con- serve Strength, to the end that one may fight the Better when next the Occasion ariseth.” Sighing, Aunt Sophronia shook -her head in never-failing admiration. “He was very wise!” said she. Then she hurried from her bed, to pre- pare for the task of which she had spoken. END U LIFE ( There are no perfect days!) UNDER mischievous stars Pile our troubles in batches:. When we have some cigars We are minus the matches. And when we have matches, Dame Destiny jars Our plans into patches— We have no cigars! Olin Lyman, COnmicloool< CO