PETER MARRIED LOUISE.

King Country Chronicle, Volume VIII, Issue 723, 21 November 1914, Page 7

PETER MARRIED LOUISE.

WHAT YOU EAT DOESN'T COUNT FOR VERY MUCH. In high social circles the girl who wants to cut out another girl ovders new dresses and more hats. Aoapng savages she sticks on a few more beads and feathers-. But in small, Middle Western towns she rolls up her sleeves, opens the flour bin, and makes something calculated to knock the spots off anything culinary the other girl ever dared dream of. That was why Mrs. Fruby said to her daughter with a hint of excitement in her voice, "Try him on beaten biscuits, Sadie .' And your chocolate marshmallow pudding !" It had been hard enough all her life for Mrs. Fruby to be outdone by Mary Sandler v/lthout having to enidure seeing Mary Saudler's daughter get ahead of her own Sadie. And of late Rosa Sandler had asked Peter Vernon to dinner entirely too often to suit Mrs. Fruby's plans. So had half a dozen other girls. For Peter Vernon was a matninionial prize, the like of whfich a .small town ,does not see more than once in a generation. He ha 4 an interest in the big engine works, which make money so fast that it gave the populace the hiccoughs trying to count it. Natural jealousy of Mary Sandler made Mrs. Fruby consider Rosa a 'deadly rival. Rosa was nearly as pretty as Sadie, - and, moreover, she was a good cook. So were margaret and Agnes and Carrie, other aspirants. Louise—Mrs. Fruby merely smiled at the idea of' Louise. Being built on solid lines herself, Mrs. Fruby had an imagined contempt , for ethereal creatures like Louise, who looked as though a puff of wind might easily remove her from the scene. Louise was of the ethereal, useless kind, and Mrs. Fruby knew that no sensible man wanted a helpless wife. Men, die often told Sadie, like energy and ability in a girl. As for cooking, it was doubtful if Louise could even"" cook a pan of fudge without burning it. Peter Vernon was a tall, thin youngi man, with a well-set head and a kindly, if shrewd, smile. 'fHe's not the sort to be taken inT" Mrs. Fruby said, thankfully, as she superintended "Sadie's work, making the beaten - biscuits for that night's • supper, to which P&er Vernon was coming. "Does your arm ache? Let me beat a while !"

• Peter Vernon liked the ..beaten" biscuit immensely. He ate six. And he had two helpings of the chocolate marshmall.ow pudding. ".She nearly beat her arm off making those." Sadie's mother confided to him. "But, I tell you, nothing daunts- Sadie ! When she does a thing, she. does it !" ■ r'They certainly were mighty good," replied" Peter Vernon. "We always have 'em Wednesday evenings," said Sadie's mother, with inspiration. "And you drop in that night without waiting to be asked, since you're so fond of 'em !" "Yes, do !" echoed Sadie.

Beaten biscuits are hard to make. Many were the weary hours Sadie Fruby put in over them, because they had to be made regularly on Wednesdays. Sometimes Peter dropped; in, and if not he was certain to be met on the street the nest day by Sadie or her mother and pinned down to another date. Mrs. Fruby took his fondness for the marshmallow pudding as an especially good sign. "You keep it up, Sadie," she told her daughter the evening Peter had stayed a half hour beyond his usual time. "I can begin to see that you're winning out !" "I don't know," Sadie said, dubiously. i<: 'He goes to Isabel's and Margaret's, too—and Louise's !" "I wouldn't worry," declared her mother. "I guess Isabel can't make biscuits like yours, and Margaret's cake is a -joke. And you'know Louise ! Why you've *got v'em all on the run !"

'''But he never says anything," Sadie protested. "I mean anything that I could take as "

"He ain't that kind," declared Mrs. Fruby. : "He ain't going to make love to a girl till he's engaged to her ! You beat those biscuits longer next time." Shortly after that the local newspaper contained the unexpected announcement of the quiet marriage of Peter Vernon and Louise, the ethereal.

; Mrs. Fruby, after a hysterical scream when she read the news, told Sadie plainly what she thought of Peter. She talked so vehemently that she did not notice how- pale Sadie's cheeks were. Sadie usually was stolid and unmoved. ,

"Well," Mrs. Fruby saicf at last, wiping her eyes, "it can't be helped. You'd better stir up some beaten biscuit for supper to-night—it's Wednesday !" Habit was strong in her.

It was then that Sadie voiced a, brand-new theory in her life. ''Beaten biscuit !" she echoed, grimly. "I never want to see one again ! I guess what you eat doesn't count for much: after all !"—" Chicago News."