Evening Star Newspaper, January 16, 1921, Page 67

g THE SUNDAY STAR. JANUARY 16, 1921—PART 4. THE JELLY BEAN IM POWELL was a Jelly-bean. Much as I desire to make him an appealing character, I feel that it would be distinctly un- scrupulous to deceive you on that point. He was a bred-in-the-bone, dyed-in-the-wool, ninety-nine three- quarters per cent Jelly-bean and he grew lazily all during Jelly-bean sea- son, which is every season, down in the 1and of the Jelly-beans well below the Mason-Dixon line. Now If you call a Memphis man a| Jelly-bean he will quite possibly pull a long sinewy rope from his hip pocket and hang you to a convenient telegraph pole. If you call a New Orleans man a Jelly-bean he will probably grin and ask you who is 1aking your girl to the Mardi Gras ball. The particular Jelly-bean patch which produced the protagonist of this history lies somewhere between the two—a little city of thirty thousand that has dozed sleepily for many vears in southern Mississippi, occa- sionally stirring in its slumbers and muttering something about @ war that took place some time, somewhere and that every one else has forgotten long ago. Jim was a Jelly-bean. T write that again because it has such a pleasant sound—rather like the beginning of a fairy story—as if Jim were nice. It somehow gives me a picture of him a round, appetizing face and ail s of leaves and vegetables Erow- ing out of his cap. But Jim was long and thin and bent at the waist from Stooping over pool tables, and he was what might have been known in the indiscriminating_north as a corner Joafer. “Jelly-bean” is the name throughout the undissolved Confed- eracy for one who spends his life con- jugating the verb to idle in the first person—I am idling, 1 have idled, I will idle. 1M was born in a white house on a J green corner. It had four weath- er-beaten pillars in front and a great amount of lattice-work in the rear that made a cheerful criss-cross back- ground for a flowery, sun-drenched lawn. Originally the dwellers in the white house had owned the ground next door and next door to that and next door to that, but that had been #o0 long ago that even Jim's father scarcely remembered it. He had, in fact, thought it a matter of so little moment that when he was noisily and alcoholicly dving he neglected even to tell little Jim. who was five years old and quite miserably frightened. | The white house became a boarding house run by a tight-lipped lady from Macon, whom Jim called Aunt Mamie and detested with all his soul. He became_fifteen, went to high school, Wore his hair in a tangle of dlack smarls and was afraid of girls. He hated his home, where four women and one'old man prolonged an inter- minable chatter from summer to sum- mer about what lots the Powell place had originally included and what sort of flowers would be out next. Sometimes the parents of little girls in town, remembering Jim's mother and fancying a_resemblance in the dark eves and hair, invited him to parties, but parties made him shy and he much preferred sitting on a discon- nected axle in Tilly's arage. rolling the bones or exploring his mouth endless- 1y with_a long_straw. For pocket money he picked up odd jobs, and it was due to this that he stopned go- ing to parties. At his third party little Marjorie Haight had whispered indiscreetly and within hearing dis- tance that he was the boy who brought the groceries sometimes. So instead of the two-step and polka, Jim had learned to throw any num- ber he desired on the dice and had listened 'to spicy tales of all the shootings that had occurred in the surrounding country for the last fifty years. He became eighteen. The war boke out and he enlisted as a gob and polished brass in the Charleston navy yard for a year. Then, by way of variety, he went north and polished ‘brass in the Brooklyn navy vard for & year. - The war over he went home. He was twenty-one, his trouzers were too ehort and too tight. His buttoned 0es were long and narrow. His tie was an alarming conspiracy of purple and pink marvelously scrolled. and over it were two blue eves faded like a piece of very good old cloth long exposed to the sun. Tn the twilight of one April even-! ing when a soft grav had drifted down along the cottonflelds and over the sultry tewn. he was vague fisnre leaning against a board fence. whis- tling and gazing at the moon’s rim over the lights of Jackson street. Fis mind was working succinctly and persistently on a problem that had held his attention for an hour. The Jelly-bean had been invited to a party. Back in the days when all the bovs had detested all the girls, Peter De- Janoy and Jim had sat side by side in school. But, while Jim's social asni- rations had died in the oily air of the garage, Peter had alternately fallen in and out of love, gone to college, taken to drink, given it up and. in ort, become one of the best beaux X e x of the town. Nevertheless Peter and Jim had retained a friendshin that, though casual, was quite definite. Jim took a certain conscious pride in knowing Peter, and Peter, on his side, felt somehow that Jim would be a good man to have with him in a fight. Peter was Jim's hand in the air. Jim was Peter’s foot on the ground. * Kk % % HAT afternoon Peter's ancient flivver had slowed up beside Jim on the sidewalk and. out of a clear €ky, he had invited Jim to a party at the country club. The impulse that made him do this was no stranger than the impulse which made Jim ac- cept. It was probably an unconscious ennui, a half-frightened sense of ad- venture. And now Jim was very so- berly thinking it over. He began to sing, drumming his Jong foot idly on a stone block in the eidewalk till § twabbled up and down 4in time to the low throaty tune: ©One mile from bome in Jelly-bean town, Tives Jeanne. the Jeilv-bran queen. Bbe loves her dice and treats ‘em nice; No dice could treat ber mean. Fle broke off and agitated the side- walk 5 a bumpy gallop. “Daggone!” he muttered, half aloud. They would all be there—the old .crowd, the crowd to which, by right of the 0ld white house, sold long since, and the portrait of the officer in gray over the mantel, Jim should have be- | Jonged. But that crowd had grown up together into a tight little set as gradually as the girls’ dresses had lengthened inch by inch, as definitely | as the boys’ trousers had dropped sud- denly to their ankles. And to that Fociety of first names and dead puppy- loves Jim was an outsider—a running mate of poor whites. Most of the men knew him, half-contemptuously: he tipped his hat to three or four girls. That was all. When the dusk had thickened into & blue setting for the moon he walk- ed through the hot. pleasantly pun- gent town to Jackson street. The stores were just closing and the last shoppers were drifting homeward as if borne on the dreamy revolution of . a slow merry-go-round. Further down 2 street fair made a brilliant alley of vari-colored booths and contributed 2 blend of music to the night—an oriental dance on a calliope, a melan- choly bugle in front of a freak show, a cheerful rendition of “Back Home in Tennessee” on a hand organ. The Jelly-bean stopped in a dusty store and bought a collar. Then he sauntered along toward Soda Sam's. | Country Club in Peter's flivver. of Ben Arrot in the front seat of a car beside Evelyn Ware; Nancy Lamar and a strange man were in the back. The Jelly-bean tipped his hat quickly. “Hi, Ben—" then, after an almost imperceptible pause—“How ¥’ all?” P ing, he ambled on toward the gara where he had a room upstairs. l!ls “How y' all” had been said to Nancy Lamar to whom he had not spoken in fifteen years. Nancy had a mouth like a remem- bered kiss and shadowy eves under blue-black hair inherited. from her mother who had been born in Buda- | pest. Jim passed her often in the street, walking small-boy fashion with her hands in her poc and he knew that with her inseparable Celia Lar- rabee she had left a trail of broken hearts from Atlanta to New Orlea For a few flecting moments Jim wished he could dance. Then he laughed and as he reached his door began to sing softly to himself: \ | Her jelly roll can twist your soul, Tler eves.are big and brown, She's the queen of the queens of the Jelly- beans-— My Jeanue of Jelly-bean town. * ok ok % :30 Jim and Peter met in front 0da Sam’s and started for the | b g An! “Jim,” asked Peter casually, as they | drove along through the jasmine-| scented night, “can you satisfy my { | new kind of pain. him there and fancied that one or two were even slightly resentful. But at half past ten his embarrassment sud- denly left him and a pull of breathless interest took him completely out of himself—Nancy Lamar had come out of the dressing room. * ok X % SHE was dressed in yellow organdie, a costume of a hundred cool cor- | ners, with three tiers of ruffies and a | course. | big bow in back until she shed black | and yellow around her in a sort of phosphorescent luster. The Jelly bean's eves opened wide and a lump arose in his throat. For a minute she stood beside the door until her part- ner hurried up. Jim recognized him as the stranger who had been with her in Ben Arrot’s car that afternoon. e saw her set her arms akimbo and something in a low voice and augh. The man laughed too and Jim experienced the quick pang of a weird Some ray had pass- ed between the pair, a shaft of beauty from that sun that hed warmed him moment since. The Jelly-bean felt suddenly like a weed in a shadow A minute later Peter approacl him, bright-eyed and glowing. “Hi, old man,” he cried with some lack of originality, “how you makin out?” i Jim replicd that he was making out as well as could be expected. “You come along Wwith me,” com- hed A Story by F. Scott Fitzgerald and water, and even perfume, and I've ruined my powder puff trying to make it stick to that” Jim considered the question in some agitation. “Why—TI think perhaps gasoline—"" The words had scarcely left his lips when she grasped his hand and pulled him at a run off the low veranda, over a flower bed and at a gallop toward a group of cars parked in the moonlight by the first hole of the golf | | ¥ ok ok F | | ¢¢'T'URN on the gasoline,” she com- manded breathlessly. “What?" “For the gum, of course. TI've got to get it off. I can't dance with gum | | on Obediently Jim turned to the cars and began inspecting them with a view to obtaining the desired solvent. Had she demanded a cylinder hej would have done his best to wrench one out without an instant's hesita- tion. ‘Here,” he said after a moment's | search. “Here's one that is easy. Got| a handkerchief? | | so | “IUs upstairs wet I used it for the| ap and water.” Jim laboriously explored his pockets “Don’t believe I've got one either.” | “Doggone it! Well, we can turn it | on and let it run on the ground. | He turned the spout; a dripping| began. { drowned like a man did with Lady Diana Manners once.” ‘Did he do it to please her?” “Didn't mean drown himself to please her. He just meant to jump overboard and make everybody laugh.” “I reckon they just died laughin’ when he drowned.” "-um I suppose they laughed a lit- e, imagine nh: she admitted. T She's pretty hard, You hard?’ Like nails.” She yawned again and added. “Give me a little more from that bottle. Jim hesitated but she held out her hand defiantly. “Don’t treat me like a girl.” warned him, “I'm not like any you ever saw.” She hesitated. perhaps you're right. You got got old head on young shoulders.” She rose to her feet and moved toward the door. The Jelly-bean rose s0. “Good-bye,” she said politely, “good- . Thanks, Jelly-bean.” Then she stepped inside and left him wide-eyed upon the porch. At 12 o'clock a procession of cloaks issued single file from the women's dressing room and. each one pairing with a coated beau like dancers neeting in a_cotillon figure, drifted laughter—through the door iato the dark where autos backed and snorted and parties called to one another and gathered around the water cooler. Jim, sitting in his corner, rose to «I WANT TO TELL THE WORLD THAT MR. JIM POWELL, WHO IS A WELL KNOWN JELLY BEAN OF THIS CITY, IS AN EXCEPTION TO A GREAT RULE—LUCKY IN DICE—UNLUCKY IN LOVE.' HE’S LUCKY IN DICE, AND, AS A MATTER OF F. "ACT, I—I LOVE HIM.” —From & drawing by Arthur William Brown. curiosity by casting a stray sidelight on your method of keeping alive?” The Jelly-bean paused and consid- ered. “Well,” he said finally, “T got a room over Tilly's garage. I help him some with the cars in the afternoon an’ he gives it to me free. Sometimes 1 drive one of his taxies and pick up a little that away. I get fed up doin’ that regular, though.” “That all?” “Well, when_there's a lot of work I help him by the day—Saturdays usu- ally—and then there’s one main source of revenue I don't generally mention. Maybe you don’t recollect I'm about the champion crap shooter of this town. They make me shoot from a cup now because once I get the feel of a pair of dice they just roll for me.” Peter chuckled appreciatively. “I never could learn to set 'em §0's they'd do what I wanted. Wish you'd shoot with Nancy Lamar some day and take all her money away from her. She's going to get into trouble ‘cauge she will roll ‘em with the boys and she loses more money than her daddy can afford to give her. I hap- pen to known she sold a good ring 1ast month to pay a debt.” The Jelly-bean was silent. “The white house on Elm street still belong to you?" Jim shook his head. “Sold. Got a pretty good price seein” it wasn't in a good part of town no more. Lawyer told me to put it into liberty bonds. But Aunt Mamie got 80 che wasn't no good any more, 80 it takes all the interest to keep her up at Great Farm nitarium. T guess her mind just gave out from sheer contrariness.” . “H'm. got an old uncle up-state an’ T reckon I kin go up there if ever I get sure enough pore. Nice farm, but no- body much to work it. Many the time he's asked me to come up and help him, but I don’t guess I'd take much to farm life. It's too doggone lone. some- He broke off sudden “Peter, I want to tell you I'm much obliged to you for askin’ me out, but 1'd be a Jot happier if you'd just stop| the car right here an’ let me walk} back into town."” Shucks!” Peter scoffed, “Do you| go0od to step out. You don't have to dance—just get out there on the floor exclaimed Jim in terror, “Don’t You go leadin’ me up to any girls and leavin’ me there so I'll have to_dance with em. Peter laughed. “'Cause,” continued Jim desperate- ly, “without you swear you won't do that I'm agoin’ to get out right here an’ my good legs goin’ carry me back to Jackson street.” They agreed after some argument that Jim, unmolested by females, was to view the spectacle from a seciuded settee in the corner where Peter would join him whenever he wasn’t ancing.. o 10 o'clock found the Jelly-bean with his legs crossed and his arms conservatively folded, trying to look casually at home and politely unin- terested in the dancers. At heart he was torn between overwhelming self- consciousness and an intense curjosity about all that went on around him. He saw the girls emerge one by one| from the dressing room, stretching and pluming themselves like bright: birds, smiling over their powdered | shoulders at the chaperons, casting; 2 quick glance around to take in the: room and simultaneously the room's! reaction to their entrance—and then, ! again like birds, alighting and nes-! tling in the sober arms of their wait- | ing escorts. Celia Larrabee, slim,! blond and lazy-eyed, appeared clad | in her favorite pink and blinking like an awkward rose. Marforie Haight, Evylyn Ware, Harriet Carey, all the girls he had seen loitering down Jack- son’ street by noon, now, curled and brilliantined and delicately tinted for the overhead lights, were miraculous- Iy strange dresden figures of pink and blue and red and gold, fresh from the shop and not yet fully dried. He had been there half an hour, totally unchecred by Peter's jovial where he found the ustal three or four cars of a summer evening parked n front and the littie darkies running dack and forth with sundaes and lem- 'E:’ih Jm.= Sauas & voice visits, which were each one accom- panied by a “Hello, old boy. how you making out?” and a slap at his knee. A dozen or so males had spoken to him or stopped for a moment's chat, but he knew instinctively that they -t hls elbow—that' were each one surprised at finding ’ | | | manded Peter, “I've got something that'll put an edge on the evening.” Jim followed him awkwardly across the floor and up the stairs to the locker room, where Peter produced a flask of nameless yellow liquid. “Whisky. Gaod old corn.” Ginger ale arrived on a tray. Such potent nectar needed some disguise beyond seltzer. “Say, boy,” exclaimed Peter breath- lessly, “doesn’t Nancy Lamar look beautiful.” Jim nodded. “Mighty beautiful.” he agreed. “She’s_all _dolled up to fare-you- well tonight,” continued Peter, tasting his_concoction with the appreciative pride of ownership. “Notice that fel- low she's with.” “Big fella> White pants?” “Yeah. Well, that's Ogden Merritt from Savannah. Old man Merritt makes the Merritt safety razors. This fella’s crazy about her. Been chasing after her all year. he's a wild baby,” continued Peter, “but I like her. So does evervbody. But she sure does do crazy stunts. She usually gets out alive, but she's got scars all over her reputation from one thing or another she's done.” “That _so?' Jim passed over his glass. “That's good corn.” “Not bad. Oh, she's a wild one. oots craps, say, boy! And she do like her high-balls. Promised I'd give her one later o “She in love th his—Merritt?" “Damned if T know. Seems like all the best girls around here marry fellas and go off somewhere.” He poured himself one more drink and carefully corked the bottle. Listen, Jim, T got to go dance and I'd be much obliged if you just stick this corn right on your hip as long as you're not dancing. If a man no- tices I've had a drink he’ll come up and ask me and before I know it it's all gone and somebody else is having my good time.” So Nancy Lamar was going to mar- ry. This toast of a town was to be- come the private property of an in- dividual in white trousers, to bear his children and humor his whims—and all because white trousers’ father had { made a better razor than his neighbor. As they descended the stairs Jim found that the idea was depressing him fhexplicably. For the first time in his life he feit a vague and roman- tic yearning. A picture of her began to form in his imagination—Nancy walking boylike and debonnaire along the street, taking an orange as tithe from a worshipful fruit dealer, charg- ing a dope on a mythical account at Soda Sam’s, assembling a_convoy of beaux and then driving off in trium- phal state for a gorgeous afternoon of splashing_and singing.. The Jelly-beani walked out on the porch to a deserted corner. dark be- tween the moon on the lawn and the single lighted door of the ballroom. Phere he found a chair and, lighting a cigarette, drifted into the thought- less reverie that was his usual mood. Yet now it was a reverie made sensu- ous by the night and the hot smell of damp powder puffs, tucked in the fronts of low dresses, distilling a thousand _rich scents to float out through the open door. The music it- e)f, blurred by a loud trombone, be- | camle hot and shadowy, a languorous overtone to the scraping of many shoes and slippers. Suddenly the square of yellow light that fell through the door was ob- scured by a dark figure. A girl had come out of the dressing room and was standing on the porch not more than ten feet away. Jim heard a low- breathed *doggone™ and then she turned and saw him. It was Nancy Lamar. Jim rose to his Yeet. “Howdy. “Hello—" she paused, hesitated and then approached. “Oh, it's—Jim Powell. He bowed slightly and tried to think of a casual remark. Do you suppose, “I ‘mean—do about gum?” ‘What?” 3 Bot she began quick- ‘ou know anything gum on my shoe. Some ve utter ass left his or her gum on the floor and of course I stepped in it.” Jim blushed quite inappropriately. “Do you know how to get it off ™" she demanded petulantly. “T've tried a knife. I've tried every darn thing in the dressing room. I've tried s0ap More!” He turned it on fuller. The drip- ping became a flow and formed an oily pool that glistened brightly, reflecting a dozen tremulous moons on its quiv- ering bosom. “Ah,” she sighed contentedly, “let it all out. The only thing to do is to wade in it In desperation he turned on the tap full and the pool suddenly widened sending tiny rivers and trickles in all directions. “That's fine. That's something like.” Raising her skirts she stepped gracefully in. 3 “I know this'll it off,” sighed. Jim smiled inadvertently. “There’s two more cars.” She stepped daintily out of the gasoline and began scraping her slip- pers, side and bottom, on the running board of the car. The Jelly-bean con- tained himself no longer. He bent double with explosive laughter and fter a second she joined in. “You're here with Peter Delanoy, aren’t you?” she asked as they walked { back toward the veranda. “Yes.” “You know where he is now?" “Out dancin’, I reckon.” “The deuce. He promised me a take she ell.” said Jim, “I guess that'll be all right. I got his bottle right here in my pocket.” She smiled at him radiantly. “I guess maybe you'll need ginger ale though,” he added. Not me. Just the bottl Sure enough?’ She laughed scornfully. “Try me. I can drink anything any man can. Let's sit down.” 8he perched herself on the side of a table and he sank luxuriously into one of the wicker chairs beside her. Taking out the cork she held the flask to her lips and took a long drink. He watched her fascinated. “Like it?* She shook her head breathlessly. No, but I like the way it makes me I think most people are that feel way. Jim agreed. “My daddy liked it too well. It kill- ed him.” merican men,” said Nancy grave- know how to drink.” Jim was distinctly startled. " she went on_carelessly, “they don’t know how to do anything very well. The one thing I regret in my life is that I wasn't born in Eng- land.” “In Englandr. . “Yes. It is the one regret of m: life that 1 wasn't.” e7 % “Do you like it over there.” “Yes. Immensely. I've never been there in person but I've met a lot of Englishmen who were over here in the Army, Oxford and Cambridge men— you know, that's like Sewanee and University' of Gorgla are here—and of course I've read a lot of English novels.” Jim was Interested, amazed.. “D' you ever hear of Lady Diana Manners?” she asked earnestly. “Well, she's what I'd like to be. Dark, you know, like me, and wild as sin. She’s the girl who rode her horse up the steps of some cathedral or church or something and all the nov- elists made their heroines do it after- ward.” Jim nodded politely. his depths. Pass_the bottle,” suggested Nancy, “I'm going to take another little one. A little drink wouldn’t hurt a baby.” “You see,” she continued, again breathless after a draught. “People over there have style. Nobody has style here. I mean the boys here aren’t really worth dressing up for or doing sensational things for. Don't you know?" “I ‘suppose so—I mean I suppose not,” murmured Jim confusedly. “And I'd like to do ‘em an’ ail. I'm really the only girl in town that has style.” She stretched out her arms and yawned pleasantl “Pretty evenin “Beautiful,” agreed Jim. “Like to have boat,” she suggested dreamily. “Like to &ail out on a sil- ver lake, say the Thames for instance. Have champagne and caviarre sand- wiches along. Have about eight peo- ple. _And one of the men would jump overboard to amuse the party and get He was out of look vaguely around for Peter. They had met at 11; then Peter had gone in to dance. So, seeking him, Jim wandered into "the soft-drink stand that had once been a bar. The room was deserted except for a sleepy " negro dozing behind the counter and two boys lazily fingering a -pair of dice at one of the tables. He was about to leave when he saw Peter. At the same moment Peter spied him. “There he is” he cried and then, turning to his party, “Cmon over and help us with this bottle. 1 guess there’s not much left, but there’s one all around.” Nancy, the man from Savannah, Evylyn Ware and Ben Arrot were lolling and laughing in the doorway. Nancy caught Jim's eye and winked at bim‘broadly. * % ok x HEY drifted over'to a table and arranging themselves cheerfully around it began a casual badinage as they waited for the colored boy to bring ginger ale. Jim, faintly ill-at- ease, turned his eves on Nancy, who had drifted into a nickel crap game with the two boys at the next table. “Bring them over here,” suggested Peter. Ben looked around. “We don’t want to draw a crowd. It's against club rules. “Nobody's around,” insisted Peter, “except Mr. Taylor. He's walking up and down like a wild man trying to find out who let all the gasoline out of his car.” There was a general laugh.. “I bet a million Nancy got some- thing on her shoe again. You ean't park when she’s around.” “Oh, Nancy, Mr. Taylor's you! Nancy's cheeks were glowing with excitement over the game. “I haven't seen his fussy little flivver in two she flashed. Jim felt a sudden silence. He turn ed and saw an individual of uncer. tain age standing in the doorway, an individual who he knew instinctively was married, played poker till he be- gan to lose, and danced because he liked telling naughty stories (o young girls. Peter's volce punctuated the embar- rassment. Won't you join us, Mr. Taylor?” hanks.” Mr. Taylor spread his unwelcome presence over a chair. “Have to, I guess. I'm waiting_till they dig me up some gasoline. Somebody got fun- ny with my car.” His_eyes narrowed and he looked quickly from one to the other. Jim wondered what he had heard from the doorway—tried to remember what had been said. “I'm right tonight,” Nancy sung out, “and my four bits is in the ring.” “Faded!” “Why, Mr. Taylor, I didn’t know you shot craps!” Nancy was surprised to find that he had seated himself and instantly covered her bet. They had openly disliked each other since the night she had definitely discouraged a series of rather insinuating ad- vances. “All right, babies, do it for your mamma. Just onc little seven.” Nancy was cooing to the dice. She rattled them with a brave underhand flourish, then rolled them out on the looking for ! I knew it. And now a, with the dollar up.” exln Nancy was right. Five passes to her credit, and Mr. Taylor was a bad loser. She was making it personal, and after each success Jim watched a look of triumph flutter across her face. She was doubling with each throw—her luck could never last. “Better go easy,” he cautioned timidly. “Ah, but watch this one,” sh breathed in a tense whisper. It wn; eight this time, and Nancy was call- mzL;le;' n:mher, “Little Ada, this time we're south.” i i Ada from Decatur rolled over the table. Nancy was flushed and half- hysterical, but her luck was holding. She drove the pot up and up, refusing to drag. Taylor was drumming with his fingers on the table, but his deter- vr:.lned eyes showed that he was in to stay. Then Nancy tried for a ten. She lost the dice, 4 e hrough the door with sieepy happy | Taylor scized them nervously. He shot in silence, and in the hush of excitement the clatter of one pass after another on the table was the only sound. Now Nancy had the dice again, but her luck had broken. Back and forth | it went. Taylor was at it again—and | again and again. Was the man never | going_to lose They were even at | last—Nancy lost her last five dollars. ‘Will you take my check.” she said | quickly, “for fifty, and we'll shoot it all” Her voice was a little unsteady | and her hand shook as she reached for | the mone | Peter exchanged an uncertain but | alarmea glance with Ben. Taylor shot again. Ho had Naney's check. “How ’bout another.” she 1y. es’ any bank'll d everywhere as a matter of fac! Light dawned on Jim—the hot room'—the drinks he had given her— the ones shc had taken since. He wished he dared interfere—a girl of that age and position would hardly be likely to have two bank accounts What was the matter with Merritt? Jim saw him start 1o speak. but so thoroughly had he applied himself to a new bottle that had appeared from nowhere that his attention was wan- dering. When the clock struck 2 Jim could contain himself no longer. ‘May I—can’t you let me roll *em ou?" he suggested anxiously, his v voice a little strained. ddenly sleepy and listless, Nancy flung the dice down before him. “All right—old boy! As Lady Diana Manners s: ‘Shoot ‘em, Jelly- bean.’ My 1 gone.” “Mr. Taylor,” said Jim, carelessly, “we'll shoot for one of those checks against the cash.” Half an hour later Nancy swaved forward and clapped him on the back. “Stole my luck, you did.” She was nodding her head sagely Jim pt up the last check and putting it with the others tore them into_confetti and scattered them on the floor. Some one started singing. and Nancy. kicking her chair backward, rose to her feet. “Ladies and gentlemen,” she an- nounced. “Ladles—that's you Evylyn. I want to tell the world that Mr. Jim Powell, who is a well known Jelly- bean of this city, is an_exception to a great rule—1lucky in dice—unlucky in love’ He's lucky in dice, and as matter of fact I—I love him. Ladies and gentlemen, Nancy Lamar, famous dark_haired beauty often featured in the Herald as one th’ most popular members th’ younger set as other girls afe often featured in this particular case. Wish to announce—wish to an- nounce—anyway, gentlemen—" She tipped suddenly. Jim caught her and restored her balance. “My error.” she laughed, “she stoops to—stoops to—anyways—We'll drink t' Jelly-bean—Mr. Jim Powell, king of th’ Jelly-beans.” * % % x ND a few minutes later as Jim waited hat in hand for Peter in the darkness of that same corner of the porch where she had come search- ing for gasoline, she appeared sud- denly beside him. “Jelly-bean,” she said, “are you here, Jelly-bean? 1 think—" and even her slight unsteadiness seemed part of an enchanted dream—*"I think you deserve one of my sweetest kisses for that, Jelly-bean." For an instant her arms were around his neck—her lips were press- ed to his. “I'm a wild part of the world, Jelly- bean, but you did me a good turn. Then she was gone, down the porch, over the cricket-loud lawn. Jim saw Merritt_come out the front door and say something to her angrily—saw her toss her head and turning away walk with averted eyes to the car. Evylyn and Ben followed singing a drowsy song about a Jazz baby. Peter came out and joined Jim on the steps. “All pretty lit, I guess” he yawned, “and Merritt's’in a mean mood. He's certainly off Nancy.” Over east along the golf course a faint rug of gray spread itself across the feet of the night. The party in the car began to chant a chorus as the engine warmed up. 00d night, everybody,” called Peter. 3o0d night, Peter.” “Good night.” There was a pause, and then a soft, happy voice added.. “Good night, Jelly-bean.” : The car drove off to a burst of sing- ing. A rooster on a farm across the way took up a solitary mournful crow and behind them a last negro waiter turned out the porch light, Jim and Peter strolled over toward the flivver, their shoes crunching rau- cously on the gravel drive. h, boy!" sighed Peter softly, “How you can set those dice!” It was still too dark for him to see the flush on Jim’s thin cheeks—or to know that it was a flush of sudden and unexpected shame. Over Tilly's garage a bleak room Ivawned all day to the rumble and i snorting downtairs and the singing {of the negro washers 4s they turned | the hose on the cars outside. It was fa cheerless square punctuated with {bed, bureau and green topped table. {On the _table were half a dozen books —Joe Miller's ‘Slow Train thru Ar- kansas,” “Lucille” in an old_edition very much annotated in an old-fash- ioned hand: “The Eyes of the World,” by Harold Bell Wright, and an ancient prayer book of the Church of England with_the name of Alice Powell and the date 1831 written on the fly leaf. The east, gray when the Jelly-bean entered the garage, became a rich and vivid blue as he turned on his soli- tary electric light. He snapped it out again and going to the window rested his elbows on the sill and stared into the deepening morning. With the awakening of his mind Jim's first perception was a sense of i futility, a dull ache at the utter gray- Iness and insignificance of life. A wall 1 wprang up suddenly around him hedg- ing him in, a wall as definite and { tangible as the white wall of his bare room. And with his perception of this wall all that had been the romance f his existence, the casualness, the ight-hearted improvidence, the mi- raculous open-handedness of life fad- ed out. The Jelly-bean strolling up Jackson street humming a lazy song, known at every shop and street stand, ropfull of easy greeting and local wit, sad sometimes for only the sake of sadness and the flight of time—that Jelly-bean was suddenly dead. The very name was a reproach, a trivial- ity. With a flood of insight he knew that Merritt must despise him, that even Nancy's kiss in the dawn would have awakened not jealousy but only a contempt for Nancy's eo lowering herself. And on his part the Jelly- bean had used for her a dingy sub- terfuge learned from the garage. He had been her moral laundry; the stains were his. As the gray became blue, bright- ened and filled the room he crossed to his bed and threw himself down on it griping the edges fiercely. “I love her,” he cried aloud, “God! As he said this something gave way within him like a lump melting in his throat. The air cleared and became radiant with dawn and turn- ing over on his face he began to sob dully into the pillow. * ok Kk % I te sunshine or 3 o'clock Peter Delanoy, chugging painfully along Jackson street, was hailed by the Jelly-bean who stood on the curb with his fingers in his vest pockets. “Hi!” called Peter, bringing his flivver to an astonishing stop along- side. “Just get up?” The Jelly-bean shook his head. “Never did go to bed. Felt sorta restless, so I took a long walk this morning out in the country. Just got into town this minute.” “Should think you would feel rest- less. da id wild- money "I'm thinkin’ of leavin’ town,” con- tinued the Jelly-bean, evidently ab- sorbed by his own thoughts. “Been thinkin’ of going up on the and takin’ a little that work off Jack. Reckin I been bummin’ long.” Peter was silent and the Jelly- bean continued: 1 been feeling thataway all|know. farm , Rone-mad colors into such an artistic Uncle | Whol too | that varies, geographically, from that part up there. Had a big Pplacy Peter looked at him curiously. “That's fupnny,” he said. “This— this sort of affected me the same way."” “The Jelly-bean hesitated. “I don't know,” he began slowly— “somethin’ about—about that girl last night talkin’ about a lady named Diana Manners—an _ English lad Sorta got me thinkin!™ He drew him self up and looked oddly at Pete “I had a family once,” he said de- fiantly. Peter nodded. know. nd I'm the last of ‘em.’ con- tinued the Jelly-bean, his voice rising slightly “and I ain’t worth shucks. Name they call me by means jelly— weak and wobbly like. People who wern't nothin’ when my folks were & lot turn up their noses when they pass me on the street Again Peter was silent. o I'm through. I'm goin’ today. And when T come back to this town it's going to be like a gentleman.” Peter took out his handkerchief and wiped his damp brow. . “Reckon you're mnot the only one it shook up.” he admitted gloomily. ‘Al this thing of girls going round unchaperoned is golng to stop right quick. Too bad, too, but everybody'll have to see it thataway.” “Do vou mean. demanded Jim in surprise. “that all that's leaked out?" “Leaked out How on earth could they keep it secret. 1t'll be announced in the papers tonight. Dr. Lamar's ROt to save his name somehow.” Jim put his hands on the sides of the car and tightened his long fingers on the metal. “Do you mean Taylor investigate those checks?” e It was Peter’s turn to be surprised. “Haven't you heard what hap- Dpened?” Jim's enough “Why,” announced Peter dramatic- ally, “those four got another bottle of corn, got tight and decided to shock startled eyes were answer —___:_—_—_—-_—_—————_m Merritt were married in Rockville at 7 o'clock this morning.” A tiny indentation appeared in thy metal under the Jelly-bean's fingers. “Married > “Sure enough. Nancy sobered up and rushed back into town, crying and frightened to death—claimed it'd all been a mistake. First Dr. Lamar went wild and was going to kill Mer- ritt, but finally they got it patched up some way und cy and Merritt went to Savannah on the 2:30 train.” Jim closed his eyes and with an ef- fort overcame a sudden sickness. id Peter philoso- I don’t mean the wedding— all right, though I don’t guess Nancy cared a darn about him. But it's a crime for a nice girl like that to hurt her family that way.” The Jelly-bean let go the car an turned aw: Again something wal £oing on inside him. some inexplie: ble but almost chemical change. “Where you going " asked Peter. The Jeliy-bean turned and looked dully back over his shoulder. ot to go.” he muttered. too long; feelin’ right sick ‘Been up * % * ¥ THE street was hot at 3 and hotter still at 4, the April dust seeming to enmesh the sun and give it forth again_as a world-old joke forever played on an eternity of afternoons. |But at half-past 4 a first layer of quiet fell and the shades lengthened under the awnings and heavy foliaged trees. In this heat nothing mattered. All life was weather, a waiting through the hot where events had no significance for the cool that was soft and caressing like A woman's hand on a tired forehead. Down in Mississip- pi every one knows that this is the greatest wisdom of the south—so aft- er awhile the jelly-bean turned into a pool-hall on Jackson street, where he was sure to find a congenial crowd who would make all the old jokes— she ones he know. Qopyright. Printed hy arrangement with the the town—so Nancy and that fella Metropolitan Newwpaper Serviee. » AROUND THE CITY. WO men were considering the business outlook. One was seated at the open door of a building that showed a recep- tion room with stiff chairs, a rug and a desk, all of somber brown to match the walls and set “just so” | with the precision that belongs to an institution. It was a room where customers come in black, to step si- lently and speak in hushed voices, as if some one were asleep or dead— except for the desk, of course, which showed that business was very much fmmortality as the fnventor of perpet- ual motion. And if You want to change the chill freshness for a tropic breath. you can cross over to the Botanic greenhouse and make believe you are in, say, Panama. except that the palms are too clean and sappy for any spot on earth except dear little Bermuda Then out again, to call on big, bronze Grant and tell him he looks like a rider of the Ku Klux Klan, and over to the | main entrance of the Capitol. to fol- low the way of the friendly trees until you come to the steps. At the head of the first flight, ong woman curved around the terrace to look down on the tops of the shiny green leather leaves of magnolia trees that alive. If a street glimpse could haxe X- rayed the back vard, the man who had paused to exchange a neighbor- ly word with the man at the door could have seen a long box or two, made of fresh pine, just emptied from a truck and, maybe, a black enameled car with glass sides and carved plumes on the woodwork, that had come to the alley gate to—but it_isn't polite to peek into private affairs. eventful placidity that comes of a steady job with the union back of him, opined that the world was com- ing ‘around all right—unless the rais- ing of the wage scale was delayed— but the other man, who was one of the firm that carried on the business inside, rubbed his hand with a grave satisfaction, as he predicted an im- mediate future of good luck: “January Is one of our best months —pneumonia!” That's all, but goodness knows it was enough. Pneumonia! You know what dear Riley had to say about goblins? Well, as there isn't one of you Qear, do be careful not to get pneu- monia this month, because, there's worse than goblins waiting to catch you If you don’t look out! * ok k% IT is admitted that creeds have their bigots—which makes it proper to mention that for one time, anyhow, the fine movement Americanization wore cap and bells. woman who seemed to have grown old as she chatted with another woman— side seats on a cross section car—the soft_drawl of voice marked her as a Virginian whose accent went back to. say, the settlement of Jamestown. Both women were inexpensive looking widows | and each carried one of those yellow paper bags with a picture dobbed on the front. It was the Virginia woman’s bag that called for the criticism of a passenger opposite; a woman whose tempera- mental shoulder chip was as obvious as her double-decked chin. She had in tow one of those spiritless sort of men preposterously addicted to going with such women, perhaps for the same rea- son that the insignificant little fish swims under the gullet of a shark—and, being spiritless, he obeyed submissively when she commanded, with gong-like em- phasis _ “Look at the picture on that woman’s bag, Wilmer.” What Wilmer and everybody around saw in the way of art was a tiny dog with a red, white and blue necktie that might be twisted into a fl {for an unharnessed imagination. “That woman ought to be reported for desecrating the flag—the flag of our Union—the flag our boys died for in France. As I said to Mrs. Blank when she put me on the Americanization com- mittee, Mrs. Blank, I said. I shall make every foreigner I come across learn to love and honor the flag.” In fulfiliment of this vow, she leaned across and interrupted the Vir- ginia woman. who was deeply inter- anion were talking about d thank you, Ma'm, to have that picture on your bag. accent was diverted into the new channel, and though she looked a bit x:_urprn-em the Virginian peeled off the in over: “You are very welcome, and I am sure my friend will give you hers.” with a boy on a sled. The woman ignered the friend, but held up the tiny dog as if it were exhibit A. “This dog has a flag around its neck. Do vou know what the flag of this country stands for?" The little flush of graciousness so- bered into amazed and_indignant realization—a realization brought to a head by one man’s grunt of con- tempt and another man’s chuckle, both at the poety lady’s expense. 1 ought to know what the flag of this country stands for. My an- cestors fought for It throughout the revolution. ~ My son died for it in Cuba and my three grandsons were in France. One of them is buried ere. 1s there anythi o1 would like ‘to askpe € else you But the other woman seemed to have lost interest in the matter. She humped herself around and stared out of the window. The spiritless Wil- | mer gazed at his shoes as if it were fa [requ(-nl occupation, and the Vir- ginia_gentlewoman, excitedly and with a new tremulousness in her voice, tried to resume her chat with her friend as if nothing had happened. ‘But the man who had grunt said to t d had chuckled: % PRI ‘I bet she could have told that he father fought with Lee.” e And that about ended that. * %k % X A WALK from 7th street to Capitol Hill isn't what you could con- scienciously call thrilling, still: It isn't all shop windows and hotel entrances banked up with tourists, you For one thing, there are the flambouyant gypsies to keep you busy a whole square trying to figure out how they manage to blend so many and foreign kiddies with halr from red curls to lacquer-shine straightness—and with no telling what futures fermenting bencath—and the boy on the curb, “I reckin maybe after Aunt Mamie | sticking pins in a paper wheel that is dles 1 could sink that money of mine “goin’ roun’ an’ roun’ an’ mever stop"; in the farm and make somethin’ out | a somber human crumb who, maybe— of it. All my people originally came ] just maybe—is shouldering his way to The passing man being of the \m—l that can be spared, neighbors; we call { el allowing | ested in whatever it was she and her|are not sati The pleasant little rill of southern | o! dog and graciously passed it|famed The friend’s picture was a snow scene | tour guard the fountain beneath and, inci- dentally, to ask a big policeman why it was that everybody climbed both flights, instead of breaking the trip into two easy stages—with the view 4 of the city thrown in. And the police- nu:‘r’\, who was kind, as well as big. said: “I have sometimes wondered, myself— though once you have mounted the main steps you are on the floor leading to the rotunda.” and so on. ‘When she had topped the upper | flight the woman saw a girl perched on one of the skylights that break out im bumps all over the terrace. She was powdering her nose. So she kept on her way until she came to another ‘woman resting on one of the riffle of steps that lead to a higher terrace. Then she stopped and said to the seated =55 'You look like a wise woman, but ail the same you are flirting with pneu- monia, sitting on that step like that” ‘The woman was as wise as she looked, for she popped up, smiled, and in a trifle less than two seconds they were telling each other what the President and Congress ought to do for the Capi- | tol; and about the Shipping Board, and | the’ wonder-weather and tulip bulbs and —not a breath about short skirts nor nor blue Sundays or any other sort of “what is the world coming - to?' stuff, which shows how wise she was. And then the woman traveled and traveled until she had immoral movies, entirely | rounded the building and come to a stretch of sunny terrace that was de rted except for an old man on crutches. His hat had blown off and he had She was a delicate featured gentle- | poked it with one crutch to_ the railing in an effort to lean over. The scheme was a failure. So the woman picked like a flower withers on a stalk. And | fes & T a5 0 her he was mightily obliged. Which he looked it., And that was about all there was to it, but, anyhow, a hike is a good thing— not counting the saving of a token— though, honest, when the woman started she wasn't thinking of either. She had gone over to the platform, but changed her mind before the car came—or, il vou know what that queer little notion is. felt: that something outside of her everydayhess had changed it for her. As if, perhaps, merely perhaps, she had been senf, as a child is sent on an er- rand, to'go to the Capitol terrace and pick up a lame man's hat. i * ¥ X ¥ Rr-:.\sds forty-eleven. why men do net give up car seats to the ladies: «If 2 woman has an escort and they can gefia cross section, she puts him in the window seat, so that he needn’t get up: for other women. Also: When war workers, accompanied by their K board a car for office, Why should a fellow who lets his wife work Iike @ man expect other men to treat ‘her with the chivalry due to ‘women?? e To b comt i NIE LANCASTER. o ——— Texas “Oilionaires.” LL ‘Texans apparently are anxious to become “pilionaires.” They sfled with having the greatest oil fields in the world, but A t me! . o now going out to the far limits f the North American continent to discover new flelds. Dr. iJ. W. Beede, internationally “geologist of the University of Texas, has just returned to his native heath from a six months’ exploration mlong the Mackenzie river. which:traverses that portion of u-: country lying within the shadow o e tiv circle. This long, lone- some ‘@nd dangerous trip was made Beede in the interest of a large producing oil company with a view of locating paying oil flelds in the vidinity of the Great Slave la A well was actually gotten un way, but the icy blasts from the polar regions swept down upon the arillers before any great amount of Work could be done. During nine months of the year the territory around Great Slave lake is a frozen « mass. Dr. Beede left Texas last Ma ing first to Alberta, Canada, 2,000 miles by boat up the Mackenzie river. All supplies had to be trans- ported over the rivers and lakes of Canada for more than 1,500 miles. The coming of spring again will find this intrepid explorer chaper- oning an oil well drill in the far cor- ner of Alaska. —_— Their Ancestors. CONGRESSMAN said at a dinnerg “I detest the war profiteer. Ore of these brutes bought last year a fine colonial estate in Virginia. He was showing a friend of mine over the grounds one day, and polnted to a uaint old private cemeterv, 9 Those. he said, ‘aré the graves of the former owner's ancestors.’ “*Our ancestors,’ his wife broke in, proudly, ‘are all living. Dismal Forebodings. A BOSTON millionaire talking about masterful wives «Masterful wives.” he said, “were in the minority heretofore, but with the coming of universal sufirage the ma- jority of wives are getting pretty , ‘masterful. “Believe me.” he concluded, “it won't \ be only in his office that the husband of the future, when he starts to Qc- tate, will be taken down.* ] . » \ » 5\ Ve