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Show Mrs. Kimball and Mrs. Worthing-tqn, Worthing-tqn, dressed soberly and wearing their best black gloves, walked along the stony country road back toward Sophia Hardy's farm, to pay their visit of condolence. "How do you reckon she'll be bearing up?" Mrs. Kimball asked Mrs. Worthington. Both ladies wore their most solemn, funereal expressions. expres-sions. "A mighty severe blow," Mrs. Worthington said. "Mighty severe. To lose your only son, the mainstay of your declining years. And such a dreadful death, too to go down with a ship. Mercy!" "The first of our boys from Hand County to go, too," Mrs. Kimball said, mournfully. "I wouldn't blame Sophia Hardy for . feeling right bitter." bit-ter." They stood on the simple stone doorstep, with downcast eyes, getting them- coIuoq intn the proper commiserative mood. "Come in!" The voice was brisk and cordial. They looked up in surprise. Sophia herself had come to the door. As , they followed her into the parlor they exchanged glaYices, with eyebrows eye-brows lifted. Sophia was not even in mourning. The parlor shades were not even drawn. "It's nice of you to come," Sophia said. "Do sit down." "We came," Mrs. Kimball said almost reprovingly, "to tell you that our hearts are bleeding for you in your great loss." "We know how lonely you must be out here," Mrs. Worthington said. "With nothing to take your mind off . . . off . . ." She sniffed and reached in her purse for a handkerchief. hand-kerchief. "Oh, I keep busy," Sophia said. "I've just finished applying for the Government insurance on Tom's life," "" ' The visiting ladies co'ild not resist re-sist a shocked glance at one another. an-other. "I want to get it right away," Sophia So-phia said. "So I can put it into War ' Bonds. My boy hasn't finished flght-'ing flght-'ing yet, not by a long shot." The ladies were so occupied with 'feeling horrified, so titillated by this i callous behaviour in a bereaved mother that neither of them no-j no-j ticed Sophia's hands. Under the 'folds of her clean print dress, ' against the seat of her chair, they I were tightly clenched. (Story from an actual report in the files of the Treasury Department.) Depart-ment.) Carry on for mothers like Sophia. Buy War Bonds till it hurts. I. S. Treasury Department |