"
So John Smith did not go, and together they sat by the bedside of little
Pansy (for that was Pansy's name).
After a little Pansy seemed to grow worse, and John Smith again
attempted to go for medicine, but his wife would not let him.
Suddenly the door opened, and an old man, stooped and bent, with long
white hair, entered the room.
"Hello, here is grandpa," said Pansy. She had recognized him before any
of the others.
The old man drew a bottle of medicine from his pocket and gave Pansy a
spoonful.
She got well immediately.
"I was a little late," said John Smothers, "as I waited for a street
car."
[Illustration: Cartoon by O. Henry]
FICKLE FORTUNE OR HOW GLADYS HUSTLED
[From _The Rolling Stone_.]
"Press me no more Mr. Snooper," said Gladys Vavasour-Smith. "I can never
be yours."
"You have led me to believe different, Gladys," said Bertram D. Snooper.
The setting sun was flooding with golden light the oriel windows of a
magnificent mansion situated in one of the most aristocratic streets
west of the brick yard.
Pages:
259
260
261
262
263
264
265
266
267
268
269
270
271
272
273
274
275
276
277
278
279
280
281
282
283