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Fantasy Fan, v. 2, issue 6, whole no. 18, February 1935
Page 94
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94 THE FANTASY FAN, February, 1935 The Little Old Lady by P. J. Searles Connors was genuinely puzzled. What had happened to the old lady? Surely she could not have fallen from the car. On the other hand why should she had left before reaching her destination and how could she have got out without his notice? Her disappearance was perplexing. He had first seen the old lady when he had stopped to admire the picturesque church on the outskirts of Huntsville. Wearing an old fashioned, rather shabby, taffeta dress ornamented at the throat and wrists with bits of yellowed lace, a bonnet that proclaimed her adherence to the fashions of 1880; and with a sole jet pendant hanging from her neck, she was standing near the car as Connors came out of the church and strolled through the adjoining grave yard reading quaint inscriptions on the tombstones. Her manner was forlorn and pathetic as she edged timidly up to Connors to ask in a low voice if he were driving on to Milltown. When Connors replied int he affirmative the old lady hesitantly mumbled that she had not seen her daughter in Milltown for five years and could she ride into the city with him. Since the front seat was loaded with bundles Connors had placed the old lady in the rear and driven on. Some twenty miles had been traversed and the outskirts of Milltown reached when Connors discovered he was out of cigarettes. Stopping the car at a corner drugstore he went int o buy his favorite brand. Once inside he recalled the old lady's presence and, stepping out again, asked if she would like an ice cream soda. Her pleasure and gratitude seemed all out of proportion to the offer until she said she had not tasted ice cream for over five years. When they were ready to drive on again Connors asked the old lady where she wanted to be taken. At first she was certain she could walk the rest of the way but finally agreed with Connor's insistence that he could easily drive her to the daughter's home which she had never visited. Number 17 Portland street was the address she gave, an address that took Connors far out of his normal route into an unfamiliar section of the city. After perhaps fifteen minutes of driving he reached Portland street and stopped the car at a corner to inquire directions for number 17. The first person he asked pointed to a house four doors from the corner. It was at this moment that Connors turned around and discovered the old lady was missing. Her disappearance was puzzling. It seemed unbelievable that she could have left the car without being noticed by Connors, or that she would have left without so much as "Thank you," but the fact remained that she was gone. Connors jumped out of his seat, looked up and down the street, glanced behind the car, peered into the corner
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94 THE FANTASY FAN, February, 1935 The Little Old Lady by P. J. Searles Connors was genuinely puzzled. What had happened to the old lady? Surely she could not have fallen from the car. On the other hand why should she had left before reaching her destination and how could she have got out without his notice? Her disappearance was perplexing. He had first seen the old lady when he had stopped to admire the picturesque church on the outskirts of Huntsville. Wearing an old fashioned, rather shabby, taffeta dress ornamented at the throat and wrists with bits of yellowed lace, a bonnet that proclaimed her adherence to the fashions of 1880; and with a sole jet pendant hanging from her neck, she was standing near the car as Connors came out of the church and strolled through the adjoining grave yard reading quaint inscriptions on the tombstones. Her manner was forlorn and pathetic as she edged timidly up to Connors to ask in a low voice if he were driving on to Milltown. When Connors replied int he affirmative the old lady hesitantly mumbled that she had not seen her daughter in Milltown for five years and could she ride into the city with him. Since the front seat was loaded with bundles Connors had placed the old lady in the rear and driven on. Some twenty miles had been traversed and the outskirts of Milltown reached when Connors discovered he was out of cigarettes. Stopping the car at a corner drugstore he went int o buy his favorite brand. Once inside he recalled the old lady's presence and, stepping out again, asked if she would like an ice cream soda. Her pleasure and gratitude seemed all out of proportion to the offer until she said she had not tasted ice cream for over five years. When they were ready to drive on again Connors asked the old lady where she wanted to be taken. At first she was certain she could walk the rest of the way but finally agreed with Connor's insistence that he could easily drive her to the daughter's home which she had never visited. Number 17 Portland street was the address she gave, an address that took Connors far out of his normal route into an unfamiliar section of the city. After perhaps fifteen minutes of driving he reached Portland street and stopped the car at a corner to inquire directions for number 17. The first person he asked pointed to a house four doors from the corner. It was at this moment that Connors turned around and discovered the old lady was missing. Her disappearance was puzzling. It seemed unbelievable that she could have left the car without being noticed by Connors, or that she would have left without so much as "Thank you," but the fact remained that she was gone. Connors jumped out of his seat, looked up and down the street, glanced behind the car, peered into the corner
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