In a crude, pine-slab cabin without bath or toilet, a little old lady sat silently peeling grapefruit one day last week. Presently a car pulled up the mountain road and honked. The old lady put down the paring knife, daintily touched a smidgen of rouge to her cheeks, clutched a wide-brimmed red straw sailor and climbed in.
It was Emily Griffith Day at the Denver Kiwanis Club, 30 miles away. (Emily is the only woman member—honorary— of Denver Kiwanis.) At the luncheon, Kiwanian after Kiwanian gave Emily a rose and made a little speech; soon she had a big bouquet and eyes...
To continue reading:
or
Log-In
