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Show "Piosehuds" Won for Claire THE WEEKLY SHORT STORY By Dorothy Douglas j TTIUKWOOD was patiently shav- lng when his eyes suddenly found fur better occupation thun looking at bis own lather-covered face. Reflected in his small shaving mirror from some nearby apartment apart-ment was the head and shoulders of a girl. But such a girl I Hair like a cloud of sun dust, eyes wide and intelligent Klrkwond couldn't see the color and a throat that assuredly eclipsed that of Annie Laurie. And she was doing most miraculous things with clny and her long sensitive fingers. For out of that Inert mass of dull green clny she had brought to life two exquisite ex-quisite children's heads. Not feeling that it was quite the thing to gaze secretly at any young lady in the sanctity of her own home, Klrkwood heaved a sigh and turned his shaving mirror. The face was, however, deeply etched tn his brain. He didn't know Just why his Uncle John' personality kept haunting him all day. That august person was always purchasing this or that art treasure and the figures on the checks ran from four to six figures. At present he was giving a great prize in the world of art the Wadsworth Competition and the lucky winner was to be richer by five thousand dollars. Klrkwood himself knew no more about art than his uncle knew of the feeding of day-old chicks, but He put the mouthpiece to the tube and silently slipped out on the narrow nar-row coping , outside his ' window. The fates were certainly lending a very helpful hand In this affair for a tiny ventilating pnne was left open In the girl's window. Against this Klrkwood secured the mouthpiece, mouth-piece, then carried the tube end back to his room. When Claire Coventry switched off her golden light and slipped Into her bed she was deep In plans for the future She was dreaming that she was gazing srtellbound at the beauties of the Parthenon when out of that spirit bound world she beard a sepulchral voice saying, "Enter Wadsworth Competition Enter Wadsworth Competition 1" Claire sprang out of bed tn a dazed condition and switched on the lights. No, there was not a soul In the room I Had she been dreaming or was there really an unseen presence trying to help her? It had not for a moment occurred to Claire that her work was promising prom-ising enough to send to the great competition but now, with thai message ringing in ber brain, she knew she must obey. Next morning she put a few loving, lov-ing, finishing touches to the childhood child-hood group; and calling It "Rosebuds" "Rose-buds" Claire cast It and entered it before the week was out Klrkwood, In the meantime, had stolen only one or two fleeting glances at the glorious girl and each time his heart turned a violent vio-lent somersault. He took to making unexpected calls on his uncle, much to-that person's per-son's surprise. That his nephew should take even cursory Interest In the hundreds of statues arriving dally for judgment surprised him even more. Klrkwood kept his voice wonderfully wonder-fully even when he remarked, "Rather a nice thing, that" and pointed to "Rosebuds." "Nlcel" snorted uncle. "Nice! There's more soul and life and pure grandeur In that 'nice' thing than you have in your whole hotly. Bnh I The hands that modeled that rtay are the hands of another Rodin If you know who Itodln is." KIrkland slapped his uncle on the back, shouted something that sounded like, "I knew It I" and left In such an uproarious state that Uncle John wondered about his sanity. All the way home Klrkwood was planning the future. He would meet the girl soon. There would be a swift and triumphant wooing, a quiet wedding and three months' holiday honeymoon or the continent conti-nent He knew he would not tell her of the clairaudlent experience until about a year later, when safely safe-ly bound to him by that circlet of gold and his arm as well, he might safely do so. And Claire, in her studio next door, was gazing with unbelieving at a letter and a check. A great prayer of thankfulness went out from her heart that ber highest dream had come true. (Copyright) that the girl reflected in his shaving shav-ing mirror was a genuine in embryo. em-bryo. Ills uncle and the girl kept affiliating in bis mind. Then later came the great inspiration. in-spiration. "She must be made to enter that competition I But how?" Klrkwood racked his brain, and It was not until he reached home again that night and saw the juxtaposition juxta-position of his own window and the small slanting skylight, window in hers that the Idea came to him. Anyone watching Klrwood would certainly have thought him mad. Perhaps be was. Love Is a bit mad at times. He first detached the mouthpiece from the speaking tube at his dumbwaiter, then from bis bathroom he secured a long bit of robber tubing that served as part of his shower bath arrangements. |