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Updated: May 21, 2025
She shut the door behind her and stood outside for a couple of minutes. Philip wondered what they were talking about. "Who is Mr. Kingsford?" he asked cheerfully, when she returned. "Oh, he's the editor of one of Harmsworth's Magazines. He's been taking a good deal of my work lately." "I thought he was never going." "I'm glad you stayed. I wanted to have a talk with you."
Then I was aware of a sort of tarpaulin cupboard under the breastwork, of creeping trails of wire on the ground, and of a couple of sappers. The corporal turned down his page of 'Harmsworth's Magazine, laid it on the parapet, and dived under the tarpaulin. Ting-a-ling-a-ling! buzzed the telephone bell. The gaunt up-towering mountains, the long, smooth, deadly guns and the telephone bell!
Cynthy's back from college, and it's all paid for somehow. Jimmy's in a mail-order store in Chicago. I've got a girl to help me that calls herself a maid, which is all right enough, though we used to call Judge Harmsworth's help a girl and let it go at that, law me! My other girls, Hattie and Roweny, are big enough to help a lot, and Paw reasons with them considerable about it.
"A pipe of Boer tobacco 'neath the blue, A tin of meat, a bottle, and a few Choice magazines like Harmsworth's or the Strand sometimes think war has its blessings too." But one wearies of the safest rabbit-hole in an afternoon tea-time, and I rode to the other end of the town trying to induce my tenth or twelfth runner to start.
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