Motion Picture Magazine (Aug 1914-Jan 1915)

Record Details:

Something wrong or inaccurate about this page? Let us Know!

Thanks for helping us continually improve the quality of the Lantern search engine for all of our users! We have millions of scanned pages, so user reports are incredibly helpful for us to identify places where we can improve and update the metadata.

Please describe the issue below, and click "Submit" to send your comments to our team! If you'd prefer, you can also send us an email to mhdl@commarts.wisc.edu with your comments.




We use Optical Character Recognition (OCR) during our scanning and processing workflow to make the content of each page searchable. You can view the automatically generated text below as well as copy and paste individual pieces of text to quote in your own work.

Text recognition is never 100% accurate. Many parts of the scanned page may not be reflected in the OCR text output, including: images, page layout, certain fonts or handwriting.

BIOCRAPH) Two hundred and fifty dollars ! Two — hundred — and — fifty — dollars ! Jim Peterson, father, laughed aloud, humorlessly. He might just as well have said two thousand — it would even have been a bit kinder, because that would have put it beyond thinking. But to be on the edge of possibility, yet out of reach, was a pain hard to bear. The man sat hunched in his chair, sloping shoulders dragged down by the heaviness of his heart. Jim Peterson, father, was such a tiny. colorless, insignificant cog in the scheme of things that he would hardly be worth describing at all if it were not for Rosina. But his title of father gave him a sort of human dignity beneath all his dinginess and insignificance. The wee. frail child on her crutches was his excuse for living. He loved her with a fierce, unreasoning passion, for the mother who had borne her and had not waited to look upon the tiny face; for the memory of all his young plans and hopes and ambitions that had withered save for her; for her baby lips and baby fingers and the poor little twisted leg that carried her brave spirit limping thru the forlorn days. The big surgeon said it would cost two hundred and fifty dollars to mend the leg — tico hundred and fifty dollars! If he earned two dollars a day, or maybe two dollars and a half — again the man laughed out savagely. Fool ! 51 And here he was discharged from the gang only this morning for drinking. The foreman couldn't know that he had been drinking to forget that he was a failure in life, without the means of giving his little girl the right start. ' ' Hey, you ! doncher know this aint no time for bummin ' ? " He could hear the angry voice yet in the ears of his soul. "This last bit of track's gotter be laid in a hurry. D'ye think the road is payin' f'r a whisky booze? Get your time and get out ! ' ' Two hundred and fifty dollars — two hundred and fiftv dol "Daddv!" "Yes. Rosy-gal." ""When's your train goin' to 'tart, daddy?" Oh, blessed faith of childhood, which can give the man with the sledge the unquestioned authority of a railroad president. The father's heart filled with tears; his rough hand shook on her curls. "Tomorrer mornin', honey," he told her; "tomorrer mornin' th' first train on the L. M. & P. goes over th' road." "And the pres'dunt, with a tall, shiny hat and the gold spike, daddy; go on, tell 'bout them," she prompted. But he did not hear, sunk in the lethargy of despair. Two hundred and fifty dollars "And I'm goin' to ride on the train, daddy — you promised."