Aunt Jane's Nieces Out West
"
Uncle John nodded.
"He is a rather clean-cut young fellow," said he, "and the chances are he
won't become dissipated, even though he loses his money through lack of
worldly knowledge or business experience. A boy brought up and educated
on an island can't be expected to prove very shrewd, and whatever the
extent of his fortune it is liable to melt like snow in the sunshine."
"After all," returned Arthur, "this experience won't hurt him. He will
still have his island to return to."
They smoked for a time in silence.
"Has it ever occurred to you, sir," said Arthur, "that the story Jones
has related to us, meager though it is, bears somewhat the stamp of a
fairy tale?"
Uncle John removed his cigar and looked reflectively at the ash.
"You mean that the boy is not what he seems?"
"Scarcely that, sir. He seems like a good boy, in the main. But his story
is--such as one might invent if he were loath to tell the truth."
Uncle John struck a match and relit his cigar.
"I believe in A. Jones, and I see no reason to doubt his story," he
asserted. "If real life was not full of romance and surprises, the
novelists would be unable to interest us in their books."
CHAPTER XI
A DAMSEL IN DISTRESS
The day had not started auspiciously for the Stanton sisters. Soon after
they arrived at the Continental Film Company's plant Maud had wrenched
her ankle by stumbling over some loose planks which had been carelessly
left on the open-air stage, and she was now lying upon a sofa in the
manager's room with her limb bandaged and soaked with liniment.
Flo was having troubles, too. A girl who had been selected by the
producer to fall from an aeroplane in mid-air had sent word she was ill
and could not work to-day, and the producer had ordered Flo to prepare
for the part. Indignantly she sought the manager, to file a protest, and
while she waited in the anteroom for an audience, Mr. A. Jones of Sangoa
came in and greeted her with a bow and a smile.
"Good gracious! Where did _you_ come from?
- Page:
- 1
- 2
- 3
- 4
- 5
- 6
- 7
- 8
- 9
- 10
- 11
- 12
- 13
- 14
- 15
- 16
- 17
- 18
- 19
- 20
- 21
- 22
- 23
- 24
- 25
- 26
- 27
- 28
- 29
- 30
- 31
- 32
- 33
- 34
- 35
- 36
- 37
- 38
- 39
- 40
- 41
- 42
- 43
- 44
- 45
- 46
- 47
- 48
- 49
- 50
- 51
- 52
- 53
- 54
- 55
- 56
- 57
- 58
- 59
- 60
- 61
- 62
- 63
- 64
- 65
- 66
- 67
- 68
- 69
- 70
- 71
- 72
- 73
- 74
- 75
- 76
- 77
- 78
- 79
- 80
- 81
- 82
- 83
- 84
- 85
- 86
- 87
- 88
- 89
- 90
- 91
- 92
- 93
- 94
- 95
- 96
- 97
- 98
- 99
- 100
- 101
- 102
- 103
- 104
- 105
- 106
- 107
- 108
- 109
- 110
- 111
- 112
- 113
- 114
- 115
- 116
- 117
- 118
- 119
- 120
- 121
- 122
- 123
- 124
- 125
- 126
- 127
- 128
- 129
- 130
- 131
- 132
- 133
- 134
- 135
- 136
- 137
- 138
- 139
- 140
- 141
-
The Blacksmith's Stool: The Story of a Man Who Found that Death was Necessary
Category: Czechoslovak folktale
Read times: 41 -
A Gullible World: The Story of a Man Who Didn't Beat His Wife
Category: Czechoslovak folktale
Read times: 25 -
The Devil's Gifts: The Story of a Man Whom the Devil Befriended
Category: Czechoslovak folktale
Read times: 21
There was once an honest journeyman tailor, by name Labakan, who learned his trade with an excellent master in Alexandria. It could not be said that Labakan was unhandy with the needle; on the contrary, he could make excellent work: moreover, one would have done him injustice to have called him lazy. Nevertheless, his companions knew not what to make of him, for he would often sew for hours together so rapidly that the needle would glow in his hand, and the thread smoke, and that none could equal him.
© 2013-2019 FairyTales
Almost all texts on this website are from the Public Domain.