Dorothy Dale (A Girl of To-Day) | Page 6

could write up the parade," ventured Dorothy. "I have often
helped father read proof, you know."
"Perhaps you can," assented Ralph. "Here is a pencil and some copy
paper. You had better try at once, as I will have to go to press earlier

than usual to allow for 'snags,'" and he smiled to apologize for the
newspaper slang.
Dorothy sat down at her father's desk. Somehow, she felt a confidence
in her efforts when seated there, where he had worked so faithfully, and
successfully, too, for the Bugle sounded always the note of truth and
sincerity. She started at once to write up the parade. She should be
careful, of course, not to mention the major's name, or her own (her
father never did) and she hoped she could at least make a good
composition or essay on Memorial Day.
Dorothy worked earnestly, for she meant to have that issue of the paper
up to the mark, if her labors could bring it there.
Ralph had rolled up his sleeves again, and was busy with the press.
Tavia was "nosing around," as she expressed it. The door opened
suddenly and little Johnnie Travers rushed in.
"The major sent me--to tell you--" and he had to get a new breath in
somehow--" to tell you that old Mrs. Douglass is--is dead!" he finally
managed to say. "He wants you to be sure to--to--put her in the paper."
"Nothing but live stuff in this paper, Johnnie dear," spoke up Tavia.
"Mrs. Douglass was bad enough alive--but dead! We really haven't
space," and, in spite of the real seriousness of the matter, for Mrs.
Douglass was an important woman in Dalton, or had been up to that
morning, Ralph and Dorothy were compelled to laugh at the wit of
their friend.
"She was a big woman," said Ralph, adding to the mix-up in language,
"and the Bugle is small. But being 'big' we cannot afford to slight her
memory. There is so little time--"
"I can write that," said Tavia, shaking her head with a meaning. "And I
know all about Mrs. Douglass and her high fence. Also the flowers
behind the boxwood. Here, Doro, give me some of that paper--"
"Oh, you would have to see some of the family," interrupted Ralph.

"Find out how she died, when she will be buried; if she said anything
interesting--about charities, you know--"
"For mine!" sang out Tavia, adjusting her hat.
"Yes, your first assignment," ventured Ralph. "Dorothy must finish the
parade, and I must attend to the typesetting, so if you could, really,--"
"Of course I can. Haven't I spent more time in the graveyard than at
school? And don't I know what they say about dead persons?
"'Here lies Mrs. Doug,-- She had a mug, And none in Dalt could match
it, When she took sick, She died that quick, The Bugle couldn't catch
it.'
"How's that?" went on the girl. "Shows it was our busy day and we
hadn't time to catch the dead news, not Mrs. Doug's face, you know."
"Oh, Tavia, what slang!" cried Dorothy, and added: "you had better not
go, you will surely say or do something--"
"I certainly shall both say and do something. Johnnie look out for your
nose there. That machine is going and your nose is not insured. Yes,
Doro, this issue of the Bugle will blow a blast both loud and shrill in
memory of Mrs. Doug. You know she loved blowing, never missed a
windy day to collect the rent."
It was useless to argue. Tavia was bent on doing the "obit." as Ralph
called the obituary assignment. She went out with Johnnie at her heels.
"She's the jolly kind," commented Ralph, as the door closed on the
brother and sister.
"Yes, and so few understand her," Dorothy replied. "To me she is just
the dearest girl in Dalton, but others think differently of her."
"I've known boys like that," assented the young man. "They seem to
live in a shell, and only poke their real selves out to certain persons,
those who love them."

"I feel more like writing now," said Dorothy, brightening up, "Johnnie
told me father is better--he was taking some nourishment, the child said,
and when the doctor left Johnnie did not have to go to the drug store.
That means, of course, that there is nothing new setting in. I think Aunt
Libby should have kept Joe and Roger from school, but she thought the
house would be quieter for father with them away. Aunt Libby is very
nervous lately."
"I do hope the major will be well soon," answered Ralph. "He seemed
so strong, but I suppose when sickness takes hold of something worth
while the result is equally of consequence."
For some time the girl and young