A Sensible Girl

A Sensible Girl <By WILLY WALKER JACK Eastman certainly could not truthfully be called a la- dies' man. Nevertheless, wom- en were his chief topic of conver- sation. Jack always proclaimed himself loudly as being first, last, and always for the sensible girl; and just as loudly did he proclaim his distaste for the flapper type of girl. A sensible girl was the way he described Dorothy Winsome after he saw her for the first time come out of the door of the office oppo- site his and go swinging down the corridor. He based his opinion on the fact that she wore broad, low- heeled shoes, and didn't walk like a mincing doll. IT was really the easy grace of her walk that attracted his attention in the first place and he had no idea how much the golden glint in her bright, wavy hair, the soft light in her dark eyes, and the peachiness of her creamy skin had to do with the fact that he was instantly more or less of the opinion that she was the girl for him. Jack spent a good many of his waking hours after that in think- ing about Dorothy. He developed a positively uncanny faculty for timing his goings and comings so that they might coincide with hers. One might have suspected him of lurking behind his own door, with his eye glued to the keyhole, so often did he dart out and stroll down the corridor in her wake. If Dorothy had any suspicion of the intense interest he took in her movements, she gave no evidence of it. She came and went with great serenity, looking, as far as Jack could see, neither to the right nor to the left. JT'OR what seemed to Jack a very long time, the only satisfaction he got out of the situ- ation lay in watching Dorothy's graceful glidings down the hall. It was a long while before Fate took a hand, but eventually she did come to the rescue. Dashing back from lunch one day at his usual breakneck speed, Jack arrived at the most crowded corner in the city just in time to see a young woman, whose back had a strangely familiar look, lose her balance and plunge into the street. Jack was the first on the scene, outdistancing all comers. He quickly retrieved the young wom- an, half carried her across the side- walk, and propped her against the More Than Bread D. ARK forests, spirit haunted; wide grasslands, pasturing wan- dering herds; feudal estates, sup- porting the serfs, rude huts, and the lord's gorgeous castle; walled towns, filthy, crowded, and flanked by half desolate farm patches; rich cities, showering opportunities on him whose back bends as well as on the master, surrounded by rich hinterlands which contribute to, and profit from, the city's prosper- ity. Our world — the gift of God and the ages! We are the heirs; life abundant is our inheritance. This physical world we own in common with all men; our spirit- ual world is ours by special right. Conscientious dissenters, sacrificing old world comforts for new world toil, cultivated ideals of manhood as they tilled their rocky Massa- chusetts fields. Pioneers, imbued with the spirit of progress and the spirit of God, transplanted those ideals to newer, unspoiled land. Our own fathers and mothers nur- tured them through the storms of frontier life and statehood' s in- fancy. Now, ours to defend them in a civilization whose very com- plexity threatens their extinction. The objective world is beyond individual power of destruction. Civilization we may limit but not efface. But what of our spiritual heritage!' What of our ideals of honesty, cleanliness, virtue? These we may destroy in a single life- time, leaving nothing for our chil- dren. In the recklessness of a single hour we may lose all that is ours by virtue of generations of faith. The unchanging standards which have made us a distinctive people are too dear to lay upon the altar of the pagan gods of pleasure and worldliness; too dear our inherit- ance, to sacrifice it by violation of the laws upon which it is based. Helen Hinckley, Mt. Ogden Stake Gleaner Girt. side of the building before he real- ized that it was Dorothy Winsome whom he had had the good for- tune to rescue. Fortunately, she had received no personal injury, the only evidence of her mishap being a run in a very magnificent pair of silk stockings. Presently with the aid of Jack's strong right arm she was able to return to the office. It was not until he had de- posited her at her own door that he- looked down and saw that she wore upon her shapely feet a pair of shoes with outrageously high heels. "For the love of — !" he ejacu- lated, "It's no wonder you came near killing yourself. How on earth do you happen to be wearing those abominable shoes?" "Abominable shoes?" repeated Dorothy indignantly. "Why, those are the very loveliest shoes you could find anywhere in the city. "But your nice, sensible low heels?" Jack wailed. It was a test of his judgment and meant a good deal to him. "Nice, sensible low heels?" Dorothy reiterated. "Ghastly hor- rors! Do you suppose I would have worn them for one minute if I hadn't had to? I sprained my ankle four months ago and just had to wear those old things. The ankle is all right now, and I'm not ever in my whole life going to put those old monstrosities on again jOME months later Eastman held Dorothy's soft hand in his and slipped a very charming ring on the third finger of her left hand. "Dorothy," he said solemnly as the ring settled into its proper place, "I'm crazy about you and all that, but if a girl ever got a guy under false pretense, it was you." "I don't care a bit," she mur- mured, "just so I got you!"