Dawn O'Hara, the Girl Who Laughed by Edna Ferber

By Edna Ferber

"There are a couple of issues which are pleasanter than being in poor health in a brand new York boarding-house whilst one’s nearest dearest is a married sister up in far-away Michigan."

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He, asked, his great black eyes searching my face. "I'm what's left of it," I replied, meekly. "I understand you've been in for repairs. Must of met up with somethin' on the road. " I laughed, "it's uphill every bit of the road, and yet you've got to go full speed to get anywhere. " He waved away a cloud of pipe-smoke, and knowingly squinted through the haze. "We don't speed up much here. And they ain't no hill climbin' t' speak of. But say, if you ever should hit a nasty place on the route, toot your siren for me and I'll come.

Max, 38 DAWN O'HARA THE GIRL WHO LAUGHED pipe in mouth, surveyed us blandly. "Fine color you've got, Dawn," he remarked. "There is such a thing as overdoing this health business," snapped Norah, with a great deal of acidity for her. " Max turned to Von Gerhard. " whispered Von Gerhard. "When women exchange remarks that apparently are simple, and yet that you, a man, cannot understand, then know there is a woman's war going on, and step softly, and hold your peace. " Calm was restored with the appearance of the steak, which was found to have survived the period of waiting, and to be incredibly juicy and tender.

And I thought the book was coming on beautifully. And I'm sure it will be a wonderful book, Dawn dear. " "Oh, the book--it is too uncertain. Perhaps it will go, but perhaps it won't. And then--what? It will be months before the book is properly polished off. And then I may peddle it around for more months. No; I can't afford to trifle with uncertainties. Every newspaper man or woman writes a book. It's like having the measles. There is not a newspaper man living who does not believe, in his heart, that if he could only take a month or two away from the telegraph desk or the police run, he could write the book of the year, not to speak of the great American Play.

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