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Little Eve Edgarton

Creator: Abbott, Eleanor Hallowell, 1872-1958
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"But--why do you have to write it?" gasped Barton. Languidly her heavy lashes shadowed down across her cheeks again. "It's for the British consul at Nunko-Nono," she said. "It's some notes he asked me to make for him in London this last spring." "But for mercy's sake--do you like to write things like that?" insisted Barton. "Oh, no," drawled little Eve Edgarton. "But of course--if I marry him," she confided without the slightest flicker of emotion, "it's what I'll have to write--all the rest of my life." "But--" stammered Barton. "For mercy's sake, do you want to marry him?" he asked quite bluntly. "Oh, no," drawled little Eve Edgarton. Impatiently Barton threw away his half-smoked cigarette and lighted a fresh one. "Then why?" he demanded. "Oh, it's something Father invented," said little Eve Edgarton. Altogether emphatically Barton pushed back his chair. "Well, I call it a shame!" he said. "For a nice live little girl like you to be
Art of Money Getting

Produced by Wayne N. Keyser in honor of his Parents, Clifton B. and Esther N. Keyser The Art of Money Getting or Golden Rules for Making Money by P.T. Barnum In the United States, where we have more land than people, it is not at all difficult for persons in good health to make money. In this comparatively new field there are so many avenues of success open, so many vocations which are not crowded, that any person of either sex who is willing, at least for the time being, to engage in any respectable occupation that offers, may find lucrative employment. Those who really desire to attain an independence, have only to set their minds upon it, and adopt the proper means, as they do in regard to
packed off like so much baggage--to marry some great gray-bearded clout who hasn't got an idea in his head except--except--" squintingly he stared down at the scattered sheets on the floor--"except--'Amphichelydia,'" he asserted with some feeling. "Yes--isn't it?" sighed little Eve Edgarton. "For Heaven's sake!" said Barton. "Where is Nunko-Nono?" "Nunko-Nono?" whispered little Eve Edgarton. "Where is it? Why, it's an island! In an ocean, you know! Rather a hot--green island! In rather a hot--blue-green ocean! Lots of green palms, you know, and rank, rough, green grass--and green bugs--and green butterflies--and green snakes. And a great crawling, crunching collar of white sand and hermit-crabs all around it. And then just a long, unbroken line of turquoise-colored waves. And then more turquoise-colored waves. And then more turquoise-colored waves. And then more turquoise-colored waves. And then--and then--" "And then what?" worried Barton. With a vaguely astonished lift of the eyebrows little Eve Edgarton met both question and questioner perfectly squarely. "Why--then--more turquoise-colored waves, of course," chanted little Eve Edgarton. "It sounds rotten to me," confided Barton.