27, 1915. 
various smaller ones, the concealing of brick walls by 
p-boards and plaster and the dozens of other innova- 
s that robbed the house of its historic glamor but 
+h are now eliminated, setting forth the house in its 
nal form. 
Interesting and rare are the things contained in the 
se—the great brass kettles, the piggins and noggins, 
ining wheels, churns, looms and cooking utensils cf 
every description. Things usually regarded as ancieit 
nave been barred from this collection as lacking in an- 
‘tiquity, for nothing, but articles in use at least several 
ee 
an 
NORTH SHORE BREEZE and Reminder’ 
generations ago, are permitted to join this collection. 
Of exceptional interest are a chair owned by Rebecca 
Nourse, a genuine Governor Bradford chair, the marvel- 
cus old sun dial, the restored handspun bed cotton and the 
old-time clock reel, all of which are to be seen for the 
asking. 
The society for the preservation of the Rebecca 
Nourse house has spent much care and money in keeping 
the house in its old-time splendor, and thanks to them, 
one of the most charming spots in historic Essex county 
is near at hand for all to see. 
Polly’s Prize 
Be '. DP AR: 
COME on, Sally, jump in quick! Let's 
go over to the club and have a game 
of tennis. I bet you a pair of gloves I'll 
win the game.” 
Such was Polly’s greeting as, she 
"iE stopped her runabout in front of Sally’s 
<\<.-| home one bright August morning, and 
“| found her working in the rose garden. 
y “For goodness sake, Poll, why don’t 
you frighten anyone to death? But I'll be 
. 2 ready ina minute. I need the gloves.” 
x With a laugh she ran into the house and 
soon emerged, wearing a broad hat and carrying her 
racquet. 
Away they flew! Polly could not be called a careful 
driver, I’m afraid, and she made her little car just tear 
along the roads. 
‘As they neared the clubhouse, Sally said: “I’m 
going to win that tournament, and gain possession of that 
giorious cup. Just wait and see. Two years is enough 
for one person to have it, and I mean to take it away from 
you this year.” . 
Polly laughed, and answered: “Well, the best of 
piayers always miss, you know. It will go to the one 
who deserves it.” 
They soon reached the club. How inviting it 
looked with its long verandas shaded by awnings! Not 
many people would have passed by the comfortable chairs 
which were almost begging to be occupied. The tiny tea 
tables seemed waiting to serve refreshments, but the gir's 
went on without even a glance at them and started on 
their game. Each girl worked her hardest and played 
her best. It was‘hard to tell which one would win. 
They were keen rivals, and there was no match for them 
in the neighboring towns. _ However, in spite of their 
rivalry, there was a deep friendship between them, and I 
would venture to say that each one felt sorry when her 
opponent lost. Today, however, Polly won, and the 
gloves were hers. : 
As they left the courts, they passed a young man of 
their acquaintance just going in to play. His companion 
was a tall, fair, distinguished looking young man, who 
was unknown to both of them. 
“Rather professional looking, 
remark came from Polly, who turned to look at 
stranger. “I wonder who he is.” 
“T don’t know, but as he is apt to be here Thursday 
afternoon, I wouldn’t be surprised if Polly Clarke came 
over to the club that afternoon, in her new rose gown. 
Everyone takes tea on the veranda then and you will 
surely meet: him.” 
don’t you think?” This 
the 
“Nonsense, don’t be silly! I am going to play tennis 
all the afternoon. You haven’t forgotten that Friday is 
the tournament, have you?” 
The conversation now turned to the tournament and 
the young man was completely forgotten as was every- 
thing else in view of the coming tournament. 
Thursday afternoon came, and Polly, true to her 
word, came over to the club and took possession of one 
of the courts. She was going to play with Jack Hooper 
that afternoon and she knew she would win. Still it was 
practice, and that was what she needed. 
The game over, they walked toward the clubhouse 
for some lemonade. They had almost reached it when 
Polly slipped and. fell before Jack could prevent it. He 
quickly picked her up and found her wrist was injured. 
As they entered the clubhouse in search of some 
remedy, they met the young man whom Polly had seen 
the day of her game with Sally. He greeted Jack and 
was properly introduced to Polly as Dr. Merrill. He 
quickly offered his assistance, and rang for the first-aid 
box. He declared the injury to be only a slight sprain 
aud bandaged it neatly. Just as he was doing this, Polly 
caught sight of Sally passing the door and smiled a little 
as she looked at her white linen dress and then at the 
Dector busily engaged in caring for her wrist. The 
meeting certainly was a different one from that Sally had 
pianned. 
With this thought came that of the tournament. 
She would not be able to take part, and Sally would get 
the cup after all. Polly could not refrain from exclaim- 
irg these last thoughts. Her two companions tried to 
cheer her up, but it was of no use. Dr. Merrill had to 
hasten away, as he was to catch the six o’clock express for 
New York. Polly was so absorbed by her inability to 
play in the tournament, that she was hardly polite in her 
thanks for his kindness. She cared little whether he 
stayed or went. The main thought in her mind was the 
tournament. 
The tournament was won by Miss Sally Amory and 
Polly gave up the cup, rather reluctantly, to be sure. The 
two girls played tennis together for the rest of the sum- 
mer, but they avoided as much as possible the tournament 
in their conversation, for Polly still regretted losing the 
cud. 
One day in mid-winter Sally received a letter from 
Folly and it ended with these sentences. 
“Do you know, Poll, today is the first day I’ve ever 
been really glad that I couldn’t play in the tournameni, 
and that you won the cup. If I hadn’t sprained my 
wrist, I might never have met Dr. Merrill. Will you be 
the maid of honor?” 
