Evening Star Newspaper, March 15, 1925, Page 82

THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. ¢., MARCH 15 Once at Pluma Gogs’s BY LUCIAN CAREY Competent Ann Produced Varying Emotions in the Art Colony. N one of the cross-streets that| connect Lexington avenue with | | that was the only |try to borrow he could Third avenue, far north of Green wich Village and far south of the plutocratic studios of West Fifty-seventh street, there nd, side by side, three brownstone houses as e curtains nearly alike as may be. ' in the front windows are of white dotted Swiss, the bell-pulls are of sil ver and the doors are of mahogany Within there are parquet floors und claborate mold and white marb maniels with deep grate seventies, these hol a are innocent of steam T hot-air furnace in basement was meant to rm halls ahove. Perhaps it did when Was new The first house as you leave ington avenue carries a small plate MISS PLUMA GO Studios to Twenty or thirty commercial artists designers and illustrators live in the three houses. The p is known to ve i editor New York. And story thiat begins “Once t Arthur Folsom had the house that Pluma Gogs lives herself. It was noon. Arthur was still in bed. He was not ill; he was lazy, and he had not been up late th night before. He was staying in bed on @ theory; indeed, on two theories. The first theory was that he could keep warm in bed; the second theory was that as long as he stayed in bed he did not need to eat Near the head of Arthur's couch— 4t was a couch and not a regular bed with a headboard and foothoard— etood a kitchen chair. His trousers, neatly folded, over the back of the chair, as on a coat-hanger, and on the seat of the chair rested the &mall belongings that Mr. Folsom had taken out of his pockets, following an old habi he folded the trou- s @ watch of that sort that used to cost a dollar, and a dime and seven pennles, and a pap matches, and a single cigarett slightly hent, and a large clasp Knife of the kind that sallors carry T air_thus laden held not only all Arthur Folsom's cash, but nearly all his negotiable propert The large room, with its high ceil- tng, its elaborate moldings, its long windows, its patterned floor in oak bordered with walnut, had the ele- gance of an older day. And it w comfortably furnished. The trouble | was that so few of the things In the room were of any immediate practical use to Arthur Folsom. The gas-fired hot-water radiator between the windows would have heated the room, b there was a padlock on the meter in the closet, which the gas company would not remove until the 1d bill was paid and $10 deposited against the future The drawing table was a good one, and an iron standard, with a 250-watt bulb, such as commercial artists use, stood beside it, but there A single sheet of drawing paper place. The chest of drawers was a andsome picce, but it was empiy— Mr. Folsom's other shirt was at the laundry and bound to remain there until hé had 30 cents with which to get it out. There were, however, two table- spoonfuls of pulverized coffee in the tin on the mantcl, and three thin, round biscuits, soda cracke of slightly sweetened variety remained in the pasteboard package beside the tin, and the copper tea tle con- tained a pint of water, and the lamp underncath p ps enough fuel to bring it to a boil * % k% T was of these last—these happier things—that Arthur thought when he sighed and awoke for the fifth or sixth time and looked at the watch on the chair seat. It was no use. He couldn’t put off the crackers and coffee any longer. Furthermore, it was no use trying to keep warm in bed. Arthur stretched himself and leaped out on the cold floor. He struck a match and lit the lamp under the tea- kettle. Then he remembered. In spite of himself, he glanced to- ward the crack at the bottom of the door. He turned his head quickly, but not quickly enough to prevent himself from s ng that there was a letter, or at least a slip of paper, un- der the door. Wedgmore had warned him that if hie didn’t pay his rent on the first of the month Miss Gogg would say nothing. But on the morning of the 10th there would be a large square envelope under his door. In the en- velope there would be a card from Miss Gogg warning him that his rent ‘was overdue. If he did not then pay rent, Miss Gogg would say noth- ing. But on the orning of the 15th here would he another large square envelope under his door. The second envelope would contain a peremptory and that he pay up or leave be- fore night. What's more,” Wedgmore had fin- ished, “she means exactly what she rays—she never gives more than 15 days' grace So far it had been exactly as Wedgmore had promised. There had n a large square envelope under his door when he awoke on the morn- ing of the 10th. And today was the 5th. Arthur Folsom dressed, made his coffee, and ate the three crackers while he drank the first cup. He o cupfed himself with making a stor out of this, his last breakfast in Miss Gogg's third-floor back, and telling it in fantasy as he would tell it in Yyears to come—when he was well Xknown and successful and had many friends For the hundredth time he went round the circle of his situation. He tiad no friends in New York, no friends nearer than Chicago, and no friends anywhere who had money to spare. He might have made friends 1 the six weeks he had been in New York, but he hadn’t. Nobody knew who he was or anything about him— except Miss Gogg. She knew that he owed her $40. 2 Ho had a speaking acquaintance with two of the other tenants in the house—with Joe Dorrance, the illus- trator, who had the floor below, and with the girl who had the front room on his floor. Her name was Ann Brown. + She was a fashion artist. She always smiled pleasantly an said “How do you do, Mr. Folsom when they met in the hall. He could undoubtedly borrow a dollar_from Dorrance. Indeed, if he told Dorrance his_story, Dorrance might go ther. But he didn’t in- tend to tell Dorrance a hard-luck story. He wonld never tell anybody his story until it had become an amusing” memo: And even if he could borrow money, how could he By getting a job as a docks or as a subway guard or as a clerk In a store? He couldn't get a job as a clerk in a store. His it and owe Dorrance nothing He laughed at h own virtue and walked over to the door and picked up the large square envelope contain- ing his order to pay $40 or leave be- fore night. It wasn't virtue that pre- were too shabby. But whatever he did, he had better do ng him enough mosey so he could go on painting even for a week. And wouldn't horrow enough, he wo He would steal in order to go on paintinz. Ile tu he envelope over. It wasn't addressed in Miss Gozz's | fine Victorian hand. Tt had been ad- | dressed with a typewriter. And the name embossed In the upper left-h corner was “Carlson & Stei | gan avenue, Chicago.” Arthur tore open the envelope. 1t | contained a pale-blue slip of paper with serrated edges, a check for $200, and a brief note informing him that Carlson & Stein had sold his old pie- ture of the Chicago River for $250 They took pleasure in forwarding him the amount, less their commission of 20 per cent. 1 could pay two months' rent. IHe would a place to work in and sleep in for at least six weeks till the first of March. He could pay the gas bill and make a deposit of $10 get the radiator going. He could buy paints and canvases and drawin | paper. He could buy that book on | clipper ships that he had found in the second-hand shop In Lexingtc avenue. He could do anything he wanted to—he could paint his head off —for six weeks. He ran downstairs and knocked at Miss Gogg's door. A maid answered Miss Gogg wasn't in. She had gone to Philadelphia on Monday. She wouldn’t be back before dinner time. Arthur went slowly back upstairs. So that was why there had been no envelope from Miss Gogg. He knocked on Dorrance's door. Dorrance would help him cash the check. But there was no answer. He banged on the door, but Dorrance was out. At 2:45 o'clock Dorrance was still out. Didn't banks close at 3 o'clock? If he didn't cash the check before closing time, he couldn’t cash it at all until tomorrow. He might have to go hungry untll the banks opened in the morning. Arthur decided to put his case to Miss Brown. He knocked on her door. He heard her ‘ome in.” He pushed the door She was seated at her drawing board, pencil in hand, under a power- ful lamp. Her face, framed in a cloud of curls, was piquant. Her mouth was almost mocking, but her eye were friendly As he advanced into the room he saw that the piquancy was partly the result of a smudge on the side of her small, slightly turned-up nose. She had a touch of the gamin. “What can 1 do for you?" she asked. ; He realized that he w tanding there staring at her with a slip of pale-blue paper in his hand. He looked down at the check. he stammered. “I— she had already jumped up. putting on her raincoat. have to hurry,” she was s The bank closes in six min- followed her quick steps down the hall, down the sgairs, into the street. She led the way to a bank in Madison avenue. They walked in the door just as the guard was closing it. He made way at Miss Brown's smile, She indorsed the check at the counter, caught the eye of a paying teller as he was dropping his wicket, and the next instant she was presenting a sheaf of twenty-dollar bills to Ar- thur. “There,” she said, smiling at him. He wanted to thank her, to make some friendly gesture, and he was very much afraid of her. He felt ut- terly incompetent in the face of her manifest competence. Won't you come to tea with me he asked suddenly, forcing himself to look at her. Her face had changed. Her keen, alert look was gone. She was look- ing at him with eyes full of compas- sion, as if she were his mother. “What you need,” she sald, “is a regular meal. Go and eat. Then ome and see me. Ill give you tea and we'll talk.” . She put her hand on his arm, pushed him gently out of the bank and into the street. At the corner he looked back. She was out of sight. He turned off Madi- son avenue toward Lexington avenue. He knew she was right. He ought to eat a hot luncheon, but he wouldn't. He wasn't hungry. He would go down to the second-hand shop and buy that book on clipper ships. It cost $4. Miss Brown would think him foolish. He was glad of it. Let her. He wanted to be foolish. He was a man. It was a man's privilege to be foolish. He would not go to tea at her studio and be talked to. She had no right to judge him. She did not know the clrcumstances. * % * X T 4 o'clock he was again knocking on her door. Her smile was so quick and warm that he smiled back at her. He saw, what he hadn't no- ticed before, that a fire glowed red in the grate behind a brass fender. Miss Brown shoved a long willow chair toward the fire. “Sit down,” she said, “and dry your feet while I make the tea.” He hadn't realized how cold and wet he was. The fire drew him irre- sistibly. He sat down In the long chair and put his feet on the fender. Miss Brown found a tin teakettle in the closet, filled it at the tap in the bathroom, set it inside the grate on the glow of coals. “I've got one more hand to draw and I'm through for the day,” she said, and sat down again at her board. He stole a glance at her. She was bent intently over her board, one evebrow lifted in distress, her mouth grim, as she struggled to draw the hand. He smiled. He liked her bet- ter that way. “I'm illustrating a book,” she ex- plained. “It's the best chance I've had so far. But it's going to take six weeks.” The kettle on the coals was bub- bling and hissing when she sighed happily and rose. He watched her quick movements while she put a small table, very low, in front of the fire, laid a cloth, brought a tray with a small copper kettle on a brass standard, and cups, and sugar, and cream, and slices of lemon and wafers. She poured the hoiling water out of the tin teakettle into the cop- per kettle and lit the lamp under it. “Thus,” she said, as she put the tin kettle away in the closet, “we com- bine speed with elegance.” She turned off the fierce light over her drawing board and turned on & small lamp with a plaited shade of ivory silk that stood on a low con- sole between the windows. The room, lighted only by the small lamp, the fire and the blue flame under the copper kettle, was suddenly intimate. She sat-down in a long chair like the one shie had given him and poured tea. “You are very expert,” he said. “Ye she sa “1 have to be. 1 love tea. and I hate housekceping— 50 1 get the housekeeping part over with as quickly as possible.” He considered that statement as he cipped hot tea and ate a wafer. It had a whole philosophy of life in it— a philosophy he had never been able to accept. But he did not want to vented him from cadging. It was|quarrel with her, especially about a skepticism. He didn't believe he|point on which he secretly believed could hornswoggle Dorrance into giv- she was right. He did not want to quarrel with anybody any more. The room, so warm, so pleasantly dim, had harmed him out of his ang But he was conscious of being a little qai . He remembered that he had eaten nothing that day but the thres crackers with black ¢ He had n mothing by that small box of ckers, 7 cents’ worth of crack A with black coffee, for three days. And now he was no longer hungry HE finished her cup of tea and leuned back luxuriously and crossed her feet. Mo saw that her Ankles were finely modeled under the smooth, fawn-colored silk. For the moment her quick, sure alr was gone It was as if she relaxed Into charm Now,"" she said gravely, “won't you ive me and tell me about your- ve you?' he asked, startled and wanting to gain time. Some smiled at him mischievously but_tenderly ‘Yes,” she said. “You know you were annoyed with me."” He sat a little sullen, unwilling to admit that she had read him so easily nursing his antagonism “I'm sorry if 1 was ofMcious,” aid. “You weren't officious.” Y she said, and sighed mourn- fully, “I was—I always am.” He chuckled. “You speak he sald, s If you were In the habit of rescuing young men who can't cash a check.” “I am. And they hate me for it sooner or later, but 1 can’t stop. 1 mean to stop, but I dom't” She glanced at him quickly. “I know it's none of my business, but what are you going to do with that $200 He hadn't the slightest objection to telling her that. No one could pos- sibly disapprove of what he was go- ing to do with that $200. “I'm going to buy security with it,” he told her. “I'm going to know that I have a place to sleep and a place to work in and three meals a @ay for two months.” “Oh!" she said. “I was afraid that was what you would want to do.” “Don’t you think that's what I ought to do? “Of cour: she said, “you must pay your rent. Miss Gogg will put you out if you don't. But, then. you must spend the rest for a suit of clothes and an overcoat and a hat and shoes and a necktie and gloves.” “That’s absurd,” he sald sharpl “You'll feel quite differently about it when you have them,” she assured him. “And when you have them I'll tell you where you can get some work to do “I'm not ashamed of not being well dressed,” he said grimly. She laughed. “No,” she said, “you aren’t ashamed of if. You're proud of it. You think it's ‘a badge of virtue. You think it means you count the world well lost for art.’ OR a moment he was too angry to speak. She sat looking into the fire, her chin in her hand, as if she were considering some old, recurrent problem. He liked the straight line of her back, the shape of her curly head. He hated Iiking her. “You're like all women,” he said bitterly. “You can't really admire anything except success.” Colds Sure Signs of Spring BY WALLACE IRWIN. To Editor The Star who just wrote some delicious news about gentleman what broke his neck while putting up a sign entitled “Safety First." EAREST SIR:>Yestdy a.m. my cousin Nogl approach to my sacred kitchen and spoke following: “Katchoo!! (Have your printer put some stars and triangles into this.) “Nogl,” I report, “I have finished the English languidge & axpect to take up French nextly. What lan- guidge are that remark wrote in?' “I dode wadda hear anny comick explosions from your head! " snarrel Nogi with tail-light expression of nose. fou have ottered all the comick explosions this morning,” 1 narrate. “What ales you that you go around with that Senator Borah expression?" “I are entirely diseased,” Nogi dib hard. “Goody!" 1 develop. “I read in papers how Modern Science can cure everything in time. Honorable Rocke- fellow Institute have found cure for allepepsis of the adenoids. That are great medicinal triump. Typhoid fever can be cured in advance by needlowork in the arm. A Australian dentist have found cure for tubica- lousis by serum. Serum do anything. You got malaria, maybe? Or per- hapsly it aro scalit fever, meesles, smallpock, diabeatis, hay fever, plum- bago, or brite disease. How fortu nate! Jab by doctor. 2§ please. You are cured! “My disease have went 10000000 miles bevond science, report Nogl. “How could 1t?" T ollicute. “Hon. Sclence go around with Mike O'Scope discovering splandid new diseases all time. If you got something that Science have not found you better report it to Board of Health. Have you got anny name for this rare & charming affliction what are killing you?” " “I god a code in de head!" he narrate. “Ah! How slightly!” I divulge. “Since you intend to be sick why you not get something more difficult?" “If you can find annything more difficult than a code in the head I shall like to meet it and kiss it af- fectionally,” he dictate. “Where did you obtain that in- fluenza?’ 1 ask to know. “Spring did it,” he snubber. (He say all that in such way that I am sure he got hives because his words have so many B’s in them) “All Winter I go through cyclones, icycles, snowfall & beastly themometers with- out injury to my refined heglth. Then along come Spring, as usually. Some of those darnly song-birds return from Palm Beach & perch on electric wires to keep their feet warm. All nature commence smiling like Hon- orable Ed. Wynne. Poetry. seem to run_ out of all the waterpipes. ‘Goshes!" T holla. o what you do then?” T snuggest. “Katchoo!{” he revolve in his new languidge. “What do persons do then? They change their underware. 1 rapidly remove offt my Eskimo trous- seau & put on my Panama onion suit. Excuse those indelicate explanations. But all hearts beat nicer under thin- nish Lyle threads.” They stretch more delightfully.” 1 sippose. “Perhapsly. But that Spring day were just like Romeo and Shieks. There were the weather setting out- side so clear vou could see through it Then what? That light under- ware go to my head. Nogi, I say so, you must dress yourself in yr fash- ionable heat-wave uniform with new necktls the color v‘ trozin carrots a lifetime. She turned her head, looked at him gravely “I belleve that's true,” she sald. Arthur stared at her, feeling a deep, hard antagonism to her, and at the same time admiring her, feeling im- mensely drawn to her At leust,” he gasped, “you're hon est_about 11" She jumped up. She faced him She was utterly appealing Show me some of your work, won't you?" He led the way through tha hall into hix own 1, turning on the bix bulh, tilted the dfawing board 1d daid @ canvas from the pile in the corner against it She stood in the half-dark, looking At the canvas as it stood in the bril liant flood of light from tho powerful lamp. It was the one thing he had painted since he had come on from Chleago- the roofs and sky as he saw them from the windows of his room. “Oh!" she said He knew that she was surprised and pleased; that she knew he was a real painter. " showed her the half-dozen canvases. She made no comment That's he said erisply. He stacked the canvases back in the cor. ner. Then he turned on . Do vou still think that the reason 1 haven't sold these s that I'm too " she said. “Things like that wait for buyers—the right “I've sold one—just onc—in five years. That's where I got that check this noon.” 4 “Show me your drawings,” she said. “Anything—ske notes.” He had a portfolio of the drawings he had made of =hips and the rigging of ships. He had asslon for ships and the shapes of ships. But he re- garded his drawings of ships as mere records. They en't art “No,” he said, “I've got nothing else that would interest g “Let me see it “Very well,” he said He went to the closet and got out the portfolio. The first drawing was In pen and nik—a full-rigged ship on the wind with everything set, even her stunns'ls Ann Brown looked at it and smiled. “50,” she sald, “you love ships?" Me turned the page and showed her a Gloucester fisherman, close-hauled, with her rail a-wash “I was born in Indiana, and T never saw water 1 couldn’t jump across until I was grown up,” he said. “So nat- urally T loved ships and the sea. “You draw them awfully well,” she said. “I draw them accurately,” he con- ceded. "I know about shi But"— he swept the portfolio shut—“these are @ hobby. They aren't art.” “I see,” she sald in a tone that left him wondering if she were ironical “Do you still think I could make a living s easy as not If only I had some new clothes?” he asked. “I know you could do it easily, and get a lot of fun out of it besides. But you will have to learn how to “That's commonly supposed to take )h,” she said, “I mean quite ordi- practical things. For instance, you ever had a fire in that * he admitted. “I didn't know it worked.” HE SATA LITTLE SULLEN, UNWILLING TO Al)MI] THA I’L 1925—PART SHE HAD READ HIM SO EASILY, NURSING HIS ANTAGONISM “Won't you let me show you how to live In a room like this?" He wanted to say “No,” like a sulky small boy, but he could not quite give up the prospect. “Yes," he sald. Oh!" she cried. “We'll have din- ner here tonight. Il cook it my- selt.” “I thought you hated housekeep- tng.” “But I love dinner,” she retorted. They walked over to Third avenue, stopping at Joe's basement coal shop to order coal and charcoal, and bought a tin teakettle and a saucepan and a broiler and some food When they were back in his room she mads him lie in the Morris chair while she got everything goinz. He Iiked watching her, she was so quick, she did It so well. His cold, bare room became warm and cheerful be- fore his eves. She had made a home of ‘it in an hour. And he did not know whether to laugh or cry or to get mad. She was so charming and %0 competent—so completely equal to the occasion. He envied her and hated her and loved her. After dinner they lingered over their coffee. They talked for an hour —a happy hour—and then she an- nounced that she must go home. He was startled to find how much he hated to have her go. * k% JJ© thousht of her the next morn- ing the Instant he was awake. He lay in bed, remembering all the things she had sald. It was warm In bed, thanks to the deep coal fire in the grate. But the thought of breakfast enticed him. She had left two eggs for breakfast. He smiled. He dressed and made coffee and boiled the eggs and toasted a roll on the broilsr and buttered it with sweet butter. Everything seemed possible. He hated to walk Into a shop as shabbily dressed as ha was. Clerks in shops had somehow the art of mak- ink you more ashamed of being badly dressed. But he would have to g0 “KATHCHO00.” through with it. He would have to do the daring thing thought of it himselt. At 4 o'clock’he walked down Fifth and glancing at his reflec. tion in the shop windows with pride. He had onl He presented himself to her with a looked him or the fraction of a second sure of her approval, and it galled him to know how much her approval mattered. “Perfect,” she sald slowly “I'm glad you'rs satisfied,” he sald, =0 afrald you wouldn't do mollified him a little, but he impress her in ways he had thought She pointed to the chair he had sat at tea the day “Sit down,” she you a job. “while I find she going to find She pushed an easy chair over to the telephone, took the lap comfortabiy and out of an apparently inexhausti ¢ for names and tel numbers began for some one who wanted pictures of But he soon saw instrument New York “Do you know evervbody on Man- hattan Island?" this before,” and called another number. she got what she wanted. face alight Shotwell & Orme have a client who is going to put a series of 12 big ad illustrations— And the client insists on absolute it's some kind of tour. crank and truth of detail, and Jimmy Craig has fallen down on it so far. “Who's Jimmy Cralg?” “He huys art for Shotwell & Orme,"” | said Ann Brown, and called the number. HE seemed to Jimmy Cralg intimately She talked abaut a week-end house party they had bo attended. She did not mention ships But at last he gathcred Mr. Craig h. mentioned ships. He was begg Miss Brown to find some one could do ships They talked talked and talked while Ar fidgeted At st the receiver clicked. “There!” she said triumphantly “He wants 12 drawings, and he can pay as hizh as $150 apiece for them They've got o be done in six weeks hundred and fifty dollars apiec he asked Why not?" )0 you mean T get $1,800 for 12 drawings of ships?” 'Why no she smiled at him “Drawings like the ones I showed night Surely.” “But 1 love drawing ships. Ann Brown laughed. 1 - real belleve that all work that's well paid is unpleasant?” she asked. He ignored her question “I simply can't believe it—$§1,800" The thought nade him angry Twenty-four hours earli he had been starving. He had been momen- tarily rescued by the sale of a pic- ture—a picture he'd spent two months | . on, a picture that had been on sale for a year and a half. He had pro- posed to secure two months' freedom | h that $200. And now this girl with a telephone had landed him a Job that would bring him $1,500 in six weeks. It made his starving ridicu- lous. It made him a fool. “I feel like a fool,” he said “Because you've had a piece of luck?” “But it fso't just luck,” he said.| redible, absurd, | He had a strange, but almost uncontrollable, desire to take her in his arm he next mo- ment he wanted to slap her “Good-bye!” he sald, abruptly, and walked out of the room. He heard her say good-bye in her friendly tone. But he could not turn and smile at her. He knew he ought to. But he could not. He stood in the middle of his own room, stiff, dig- nified, in the mood of a man who in- tends to be very firm and very calm about something and discovers that there is nothing to be firm about and that he is not at all calm. He told himself he would go some- where to dinner alone. There was no one In New York he could imaginably dine wine except Ann Brown. And she had a date for dinner. He would Then Love will come, merely by walk- ing to corner of 5th & J Streets pre- tending to await for a car. O how happily. I felt while raying myself in clothes to resemble a Hawalian bride- groom. Then I soater 4th with cane & shakesperean smile.” * k * % @ HAT you find at corner 5th & J Streets?" T ask to know. “Minute I got there sunshine went out suddenly. I thought maybe I had found another eclipse. But not thus. Merely it were a rainstorm coming South & making a date with a water- spout walking North. They meet just opposite my hat which went away with them & never come back. Several mikerobes crolled into my ear too get out of the wet & I got slight frostbitten in my knee. I could easily swim in the water what run down my collar. O sakes! ! Kachoo! That are what Spring do for me. 1 go 4th feeling like a v Lover, I come back feeling like a Old Soke.” Whiie he speak thusly who should income byt Sydney Katus Jr who look very cheerfo because he just cheated me out of 1§ & S0c. “Why Nogi!” he exclaim delightly, “have you got a cold in yr head?” “Nosir, thanks frightfully!” snagger Nogl. “I got a sprane in my wrist. That what make me sneeze so pas- sfonly.” “I appreciate yr Puck & Judge reply,” narrate Svdncy with humor- istick evewink. “Now tell us, Nogi. W you got that cold?” “1 shall have that story printed so all my friends can find out. I have already explanned 102 times with my sore throat.” This he corrode. “I tell you how cure it,” obtrude Sydney. “Eat six (6) raw lemons each morning before rising. Then get up if you can. . . To save lifs of my deer friend Sydney, another knock walked In at the door. This wers no other than Arthur Kickhajama, Japanese under- taker. “Why, Nogi!” he commence. “Where did you get that delicious cold in yr head?” ‘Awk!” exhume Nogi. He were talking to his hankerchif, but poison flew from both his angry eyes. “I have just buried Mr. Kamakura,” report Arthur deeply. “It were a very mourning occasion,” deploy Sydney. “It were indeedly. I buried him on credit.”” He say that. Mr. Kamakura _were strong, healthy man of §1. What make him collapse £0 suddenly? “It commence with a cold in the narrate Arthur. “After that the doctors give him up.” “To what did they give him up to?" require Nogi with sobbing nose. report Arthur Kickahajama, Japanese undertaker. S M ¥, Cousin Nosi make some noises. Maybe he were weeping, maybe he were trying out some new curses. “It are an estranged thing” re- juvenate Sydney Katus Jr., “that such a quantity of posts have wrote so much birdie sweetness in Spring. Yet this are fact. Something about that date puts a lot of passion Into tipewriters. Al reporters and geninses must feel so. For instancely, worthless thout I are, T have wrote a little dittish rime which T shall now read to help Cousin Nogi: I love you such a very lot, My dolling Citronella, TN take my heart, extremely hot, And bring it to that woodland spot Where you prefer to set—but not Without my umburella. . “Katchoo! 1" dictate Nogi in his languldge, ST S “You observe,” decry Sydney, “that I make applause for what I say? Already he are commencing “Why are it, you sippose,” I ask to cold-in-head to be signal for laughing It are considered by joke- specialists to be almost funny 4s old slipping on cover & golng to hospital. persons dies from cold in head who shall think it a excuse to laugh?" “I shall,” say Arthur Kickahajama, Japanese undertaker. “Yet point what I cannot yet de- say Sydney Katsu Jr, why Spring Poetry gets gentleman bannanna- because poets thinks better when they are slightly sick,” I snuggest. dine elegantly and expensively and come home In a taxicab—he who had walked everywhere he had gone in New York to save the nickle the sub. way cost. And then, looking for his hat and stick, he remembered that he had left them both in her room. He started toward her door. He must get his things. But he could not bear to ask for them. In some ob- scure way it was desperately embar- rassing. Tt was as if going off with- out his hat and stick meant that he had wanted to stay. Whereas he had been too angry to stay another mo- ment. But he had to have the things. He couldn’t go out without them. He went firmly out into the hall and knocked on her door. ust a moment,” she called. He remembered that she was dressing for dinner. The door opened just wide enough for her to thrust out his hat and stick. “Here you are,” she said cheerfully. “Thanks, awfully,” said Arthur. * K %k B vorkea regularly during the following weeks at his drawings of ships for Shotwell & Orme, turn- ing out two drawings a week, and frequently finding time to paint for an afternoon besides. He was mak- ing money five times, ten times, as fast as he was spending it. But he wasn’'t happy. He wasn't happy be- cause of Ann Brown. Sometimes, when his work had been going particularly well, he would go in for tea at 4 o'clock. She always seemed glad to see him, glad to listen, glad to talk herself. It was odd, he thought, that he hadn’t fallen completely in love with her. And when he got that far In his reflection about her he always became angry. How could a man fall in love with a girl so utterly competent, so adequate, 80 able to deal with the world? Tt could only happen if he felt utterly adequate and competent and able to deal with the world him- self. Or if he felt utterly incompetent and wanted a mother! And Arthyf did not want a mother. He did not want to be petted and cajoled and protected. He wanted a sweetheart. He knew that she liked him. He Pussibly. Yet I must think some more,” amputate Sydney. “You cannot go into woods in Spring unless you find parking space for poets. Everywhere, behind each tree, are sound of tipewriter & sneezes. You think that Love have got some connection with -eye, ear, throat diseases?” “Must have, indeedly!” holla Arthur. “Because those aliments comes along together with poetry. & if you will read all Reclpe Books on how to Wrote Poetry you will find that it cannot be done without Love. and Kats kachoo! Who ever tell you that Poetry get started by Love.” “What not? ? ?” require Sydney & Arthur in unicorn. start Poetry, what then does it?" say Nogi with sneezes “If not Love to knew that she had an immense re- spect for his work. But- He came gradually to avoiding her, and he thought she sensed this and withdrew a little. She said she was busy. She was working hard on the illustrations for the book she was doing, hurrying to finish a job that had already taken all her working time for two months. But that didn't wholly account for her cool air. . . . He decided to forget her, and found that as a result he was more likely than ever to sketch her on the mar- gin of his big sheet of drawing paper. He was forever catching himself do- Ing that. He would work away methodically for an hour, two hours, and then he would suddenly discover that for the last 10 minutes he had been drawing Ann Brown. Early one afternoon in March he And when lastly I saw him he are still shooting off his face. Hoping your are the same, Yours truly HASHIMURA TOGO... came home after lunching with Jimmy Craig. As he walled up the stairs he realized that he hadn’t actually seen Ann for two days. He wanted to see her, He turned at the head of tuken He And The assc I managed t had no “Loc have some te ed that day he got Tell me abo Her answer was nother cup. ‘Look here h an for the thir time, “have you had any lunch?” % % * NN turned and faced him, the cup 1st it to one hand ald She took * she said, “I haven't dor on drawing for two mon yeen doing this book. I had s going to get i housand dollars haven't go she inter rupted “When will you T—I expect,” she began. And then he saw her lip tremble, saw her bite her 1ip. “T don't k she finished “Ann,” he said, aren't tel the truth.” “But I am,” she saidy For a mo other, hating each oth other. And then Arthu his arms. She relaxed in her head against hi felt her crying ag: He held her tig cheek against her: “I—I w-wasn't telling the whole truth,” she sajd. they refused my drawings.” * “You darling!” Arthur cried. “Yo beautiful, ridiculous, Incompaten darling And then he kissed her (Coprright, 1825.) Hearing Electrons. Y means of the radio vacuum tub amplifier, scientists have been able to hear the noises made b electrons, the infinitely small units of electricity as they are “bombarded against the plate in the tube from the hot filament, says Popular Mechanics These electrons, it is held, carry the current and make possible the operation of the tube, which is capable of tre- mendous amplification. Through this a new way of measuring the value of the electron charge has been developed and a method of research opened which may lead to valuable knowledge con cerning the electron and its properties Previously, it has been studied b means of tiny drops of oil, observing their movements between two electrical Iy charged plates. Droplets are made to fall elowly or rapidly or are held stationary between the plates, accord ing to the presence of ¢ rged elec trons in them and tho voltage applied to the plates. With proper amplifica tion, the roar of the electrons in the tube can be magnified to produce volume like that of Niagara, it is sald and this actlon is to be studied in the hope that facts not presented In the gravity tests will be learned. David’s City Found. UINS that are beliaved to have been the walls and buildings of the City of David have been discov- ered after extel ve excavations in Palestine under the direction of J Garrow Duncan, says Popular Me chanies. The original Jebusite wall of the fort, which was standing when David took it in th ar 1000 B, C. has been traced, it claimed, and the gleaming white limestone surface of a magnificent tower has been ex posed to the light of day and is now visible from all parts of the city. The discovery apparextly settles disputes as to the location or eda ocity, and seems to prove that the site has been continuously occupied for more thar 5,000 years, as some of tha pottery unearthed at Ophel, nearby, is said t¢ belong to the cave-dwelling perioc of 3000 B. and earlier. The Pale tine government has set the walt apar as @ mational monument, and 1 tower is being restored. Unscaled Peak. AR attempt s to be made this Spring to reach the top of Mount Logan, in the Yukon, the highest un- climbed mountain of the North Ameri- can_Continent.