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Show FORCE OF EXAMPLE How Exemplification of Domestic Domes-tic Scene Hastens Marriage. By CONSTANCE BEATRICE WIL-LARD. WIL-LARD. As they sat there in the semi-darkness in what had been a restaurant, but was now the Royal Theater, the home of moving pictures, they gazed upon the figures of a young man and his sweetheart. Violently in love, at first their poverty seems to keep them apart, but eventually they decide to brave the future and marry. It was when this decision was reached that Jim's hand sought Marjory's. Following Fol-lowing this, the following sentence was flashed on the screen: "A month later." The young couple were shown In a tiny kitchen where the bride was getting get-ting dinner with her husband's help, the operations being interrupted by en occasional kiss. It was a pretty little home scene, and Marjory's hand turned slowly so that her palm met Jim's, and she felt her breath come quicker. A hall bedroom and tea and crackers are a poor substitute for a home and husband! Finally the young couple are shown a year later with the plump, laughing baby which seems to play a star part In many pictures of this class, and with it they demonstrate to the once doubting friends and relatives that their experiment has not been a failure. fail-ure. This "picture" ended the show, and with the others Jim and Marjory filed slowly out of the close room into the brisk air of a November night. Thanksgiving was not far off, and already the horrors of a holiday rush were looming up before Marjory, who earned her extremely scanty living in a department store. That picture had brought a lump into her throat, and made her hate her lonely life more than ever before. "Let's have a soda," Jim suggested, and the two filed into a drug store, both bashful because ot their display of feeling, and trying not to p.hnw it. As they sat opposite to eacn oiuer, eating slowly to prolong the sensation of the frozen dainty slipping down warm throats a little inflamed by the dust of the stuffy theater, Jim said abruptly: "Some class to that picture." "Which one?" Marjory asked, daintily dain-tily poising her spoon on the edge of "I Wonder If It's True." her glass, as though she did not know, for there had been only one picture In that show for her. "You know," Jim returned bashfully, bashful-ly, "aw now, you know, don't you?" "Yes, I guess I do," she assented. "Boarding houses are bum anyway," Jim continued with his eyes on the table. He had known Marjory for several sev-eral years, but had never thought seriously se-riously of marriage until tonight. "So are rooms to rent, and picked-up meals," Marjory cried. "One never gets enough to eat." "Honest?" "Oh, of course, I get enough to eat," Marjory said quickly for fear he would think she was begging for something more; "but I mean real home cooking." "I know," he muttered gloomily; then brightened a little, "these two didn't have much when they begun." "I guess they were pretty poor," Marjory assented. "Some stores sell furniture on the Installment plan." "Do they?" Marjory asked indifferently, indiffer-ently, although her heart was beating rapidly. For a moment Jim said nothing, but drew little circles in the water dripping drip-ping from his glass, and Marjory felt the tears gather bitterly beneath her lowered lids. "I say, that was great, their cooking together, wasn't It?" Jim broke out suddenly. "I never knew girls would stand for having men about in the kitchen." "I guess she was glad to have him help her just to have him with her," Marjory said softly. "I say, Marjory, do you think girls feel that way about men?" and there was a break in Jim's voice. "I guess they do, so.metimes; at least the picture showed they did." "I wonder if it's true," was Jlm'a next contribution to general conversation. conversa-tion. Marjory thought a moment, then she remembered reading one evening in the paper which she devoured every night from front to back, advertisements advertise-ments and all, that many of the pictures pic-tures reproduced at the motion picture pic-ture shows were taken from real life. Recalling this, and not understanding - how anyone could have feigned such true emotions, she said eagerly: "I honestly believe it was, Jim. Why, they couldn't have had a little flat lik that one if it wasn't real." "That's so." "Why, do you know that dish pan had a little dent In it Just like ours had before mother died and I didn't have any home any more." "And his pipe was on the shelf. I say, though, I could have put up a better shelf," and Jim's strong flngerg moved as though he felt a hammer iq them. "Can you put up shelves?" Marjory'! eyes widened delightfully. "Yes, I could if I had any place to put one," and Jim drew his brows together. to-gether. "How much do you think ha made?" he added a moment later. Marjory Mar-jory shook her head. There was a weight on her spirits now. "I wonder," Jim continued slowly. Then he said eagerly, "I know. Don't you remember where he brings his pay envelope home and opens it up before her, and she takes out the money?" "Why, yes," Marjory cried, her eyed shining. "Well, I saw what the bills were. There were two fives and a one case note." "Eleven dollars," Marjory sighed softly. "Madge, I eet twelve," Jim said soft- Marjory said nothing, but her cheeka grew beautifully pink. "I say, Marjory, I'll get a raise after aft-er the first of the year." Still Marjory said nothing, but her hands trembled so that she could not hold her spoon. "Honest, don't you think we could manage with what I make? I'd like to have a home like those folks had, wouldn't you?" Marjory raised her confident young eyes to his, and whispered: "Oh, Jim, yes!" "Would you, poor little dear? Well, we will then, and we won't care, will we, if we don't have much at first?" "If I can just have you and my own home, honest, Jim. I'd cook over a gas jet in a tin cup and think we were rich," and the light in her eyes showed Jim that love was possible in a twe-room twe-room fiat just as much as though the home were to be in a mansion. "Then, Marje, we'll do it. Right after aft-er Christmas we'll get married, and see if we can't have our own home," and once more his hand sought hers, but this time with a tender, possessive, posses-sive, protective clasp, and she, utterly ut-terly disregarding possible spectators, returned his pressure with a tenderness tender-ness that showed in her eyes, although all she said was: "Oh, Jim." "And, Marjory, If after a year, we If our story is like the one in the picture, pic-ture, all of it, what then?" and there was a tenderness in his eyes as old as the world. Marjory caught her breath. Something of the mystery of life and its aim unfolded to her, and she did not falter, but said softly: "I hope it will be just like that, Jim, all the way through," and his fingers gripped hers with an Intensity thai hurt " ; (Copyright. 1912. by W. G. Chapman. ' |