The Weber Literary Journal and Sowebuck advertise right in our home town paper. I say, Marthy, that ain't patriotic is it, Marthy? He'd orter boost home trading, eh Marthy? Huh, Marthy?" No response. "Wonder where she is. Here the afternoon trade's a goin' to start an' no dinner yet." Silas was completely bewildered. It wasn't like Marthy to desert her post like that. He entered the kitchen. Not a thing had been turned towards dinner; and no Marthy around. "O Marthy, where are you? What's wrong?" "Sniff, sniff, oh, Silas, come here." Silas entered the bedroom where he found his wife in tears, tightly clutching a letter in her hand. "What's the matter?" he questioned surprisedly. "Somebody dead?" "No, no, not that," she wailed, handing him the letter. "Just read this, Silas." Silas pulled out his spectacles, placed them on the usual worn place on his nose, and read aloud, "Kansas City, Mo., March 9, 1922. "Dear Mother and Dad: "Save me a big kiss, won't you, because I just married the most wonderful man in the world, and am bringing him home. We will probably get home as soon or a little later than this letter. And Mother, I can't wait to tell you. Jack Smart, my husband, is going to try to get in business and intends, if possible, to get a start in Greenville where we can be near you and dad. With many loves and kisses, As ever, your loving daughter, Mable." Silas rubbed his spectacles, then stared again. "Hm," he remarked, "that ain't nothin' to wait dinner over." "Oh, Silas! My, but it only seems as yesterday when I was tyin' ribbons to her pigtails. Our only little girl! Oh, this is too hard to bear boo hoo!" "He's probably some nice city sleeker. I didn't send my 34 The Weber Literary Journal daughter to college to catch a good-for-nothin' city husband," he growled. "I wonder what sort of business he expects to take up in Greenville." "My word, Silas, how you do talk," scolded his loving wife. "Remember, he's your son-in-law. And besides you were a son-in-law once." Silas was immensely excited. It was the first time in a blue moon that he didn't hear the familiar rattle of Jeremiah Hick's popular hack, the one that meets all the trains. Today as it stopped in front of the store, it was relieved of some newly weds and a lot of baggage. "Mother! Dad! Where are you?" Mable raced across the store into the living quarters, while Jack, her groom of four hours, lugged in the grips and the baggage. "Oh mother, it's all so wonderful!" exclaimed Mable, diving into her mother's open arms, and engaging in a kiss and a big squeeze. Father noticed the many changes in his little girl. Four years of college had changed her head of pigtails to a wavy mass of brunette hair. Her "claws" were now neatly manicured fingers. Her shoes were not the same old square-toed things that she used to wear around home, but neat little patent leather pumps with the much-advertised French toe and heel. Her dresses, he noticed, were just about as short, if not a little shorter than when a little girl, because now she had a beautiful pair of silk hose to display. "Oh, dad!" she exclaimed, planting a juicy kiss on his cheek. "Just wait till you see Jack." Jack came in, laid down the grips and shook hands with his father-in-law who eyed him critically. Jack wore an extreme pompadour which father hated. He wore a handsome grey suit and, in his buttonhole, a big red rose which father hated. He wore a pair of silk hose and narrow English shoes which father hated. Father firmly believed that a man should not be allowed to appear in such effeminate apparel. Mother quickly prepared a lunch. She confessed that it was not a fitting wedding supper, but she promised one later. 35