New York and Paris. Mrs. Whipple, one of Westlake's most gracious grande dames, received the congratulations of her hosts of friends on the celebration of her g6th birthday last Wednesday, while little Miss Hope is still a very young lady, having been born November 7th. Home Portrait by. Alfred Ernest Minty.
Aunt Sarah ordered six copies of the News to send to friends. But after Carrie had cut out the pictures for her they lay on the table in her room. Who were the friends, and where were they? She couldn't remember.
Joe could hardly believe this little fragrant rose was his, holding out her hands to him, clinging to his finger, going to sleep in his arms. The way her silk hair was rubbed up into a fuzz in the back—her whole-hearted pink yawn
Evelyn was better than ever after the birth of her child. She needed strength for that bitter winter, when the food froze in the kitchen, and the iron latches of the doors were so cold they burned the hand. Pipes froze; buckets of frozen water had to be melted on the stove. "If anyone had ever told me I'd be excited over having enough hot water to take a bath in!" she cried. At night they would not dare to move from the spots in the icy sheets their bodies had heated; their drawn-up legs were cramped; their hips ached. Joe got up stiffly in the morning, his breath puffing out in clouds, and lit the oil stove before Evelyn, shivering, scrambled into her clothes and ran down to
