Evening Star Newspaper, February 26, 1928, Page 82

4 = { i i UTSIDE th* sun beat down upon Washington Square, wilt- ing humanity and asphalt im- partially The trees and grass were a_ hot green. lethargic. Nifeless in the stll air. like @ landscape painted by A dispirited artist Within, the square living room of Neal Col- lier's apartment should have looked cool. but didn't. Awnings barred the sun. vet the walls, papered in French RTAY peared sozgy and sticky. On a small table two green candles had writhed like Laocoon's serpent and die . in their frenzy: between them. in a sil- ver frame. the photograph of a girl in white furs smiled idiotically He hatd never. reflected Neal Co; . liked that girl anywav! Neal was s electric fan and the closed: until he s sbout his attit ad heard a complaint resting if true” he said then But 1 have love afiairs of mv ing batween a_droning open W 3 e there was n wde to indicate svilable of nR i 1 Llllmd mopping his pink forehea: _vnum\shgf the real thing. Neal protasted, “1 tell t's— said Neal, disconsolataly. Ay s—even in weather Do vou think it isn't scrious i MeDougal that I've got 10 take o f ht?™ roof tonight? 3 averted r'fts face unsympathetical The heat wave had canght Ne City that mo:;:unt . The d.\,\‘lmn:: 4 through iis hours as t fhr:g‘s;emm“" had reduced time as well 88 men to a compiete inertia. And now, when he had been hoping for an hour’s el ,on before the evening. Larry Hi ad appeared. Was the mere accident of having attended the same university and having belong=d to the same fraternity sufficient to merit this? Neal asked himself. Ever since he had come to New York. & vear past and found him out Larry had made Neal the recipient of his woes. Woes? nd what girls! And how! you to moet her.” Larry per- 1f oniy 1 didn't have 1o go to 1 can't bear to think of Ann his hot city. Honest. you must—-—" i “will she be rooler in my company? Neal interrupted. “I'd like to feel that some one Was— well, kesping an eve on her. Of course, she thinks now that she won't marry me. but she may change ker mind. And you—fraternity brother and all— Neal looked pityinaly at his friend. Larry* mop: 1 tell you. Neal I never saw a girl liks Ann. Youll like her! She—— “Itl b~ the ris 1 ever | ' sibly avoid it! Girls! rls! This Dorothy McDougal » enthusiastic variety. If tonight that New York w U the world's greatest Summer resort. he'd show her. So help him! The telephone fane and he reachad for it laboriously. “Heilo? Oh. hello. Peggy dear!” The sweetness in his voice was oddly at variance with his ! expression. which was not sweet. “No. I have an engegement—I'm €3 SOITY. What? Sunday? I'd like to so much. Peggy éear. but I'm going cut of town for the week end. Ye:—up to Marbishead with Larry Hunt. No. Ican't. then. Just as soon as 1 get back! Yes. Peggy dear. 8o swest of you to call - .. He shook his head mournfully at Larry. “I wish some nice young feila would marry that little girl” he said. “Ctrtainly would —at last. “Tve left| your €2sk. If you'd Fat Boy. I got troubles of my own.’ E And hadn't he? After Larry de- sluggishly, countin: t in— )ug‘"d.rvp stirrin, t 6 cook little dinners at home for him to show him the really serious, do- msstic side of her nature. Perhaps gentieman Coesn't admit such possibili- ties, but in_the solitude of his apart ment Neai Collier had to face the fact that Peggy was all for marrying him. Dorothy had decided charm, 2 charm that had been not in the least unap- by several other young men. But now that his own fool persistence had shoved them 1o one side he seemed to have her, as it were, on his hands. Fay klin vas safely in Maine for the Summer and Carol Blair was play- | ing stock in Chicago. The only one of the bunch whom he really enjoyed— that olive-skinned young Norma Da: pranced off o Provincetown than a week a2fter he met her. There was a girl a man didn't forget! 1If only she were in New York! The telephone, terrupting his refiections. made him remember Susanna Weston with guilty start. Oh, the life of a young man in New York who wanted only oc- easions] companionship and the odd Cznce was a hazardous thing! * % 'HE evening was fully as bad as he had expected. Dinner was merely @inner—one has o eat, and why do it aione?—but tne theater was suffoc ing. Xot only did Dorothy not think | 1t 100 hot o dance—"Dancing makes one forget the weather, don't you think? '—put she chose the most crowd- 4 night club in the city. It wasn't in 8 cellar exactiy, but decidedly it was ot & roof In his own zpartment he plugged both Goorbell and telepnone bell znd 1sy himself down ‘Why didn't he go down 1o Province- wwn the nerxt night? 1L was—or snould be—cool there, end Norma Day would be crisp and fresh in a Sum- mer frock. But the heat of the morning defeat- ed any ambiuon Going somewhere, anywhere, meant buylng tickets and putting things 1nw « bag He went to the office, of course and returned home in & cab When, 2t half-past 7 he discovered thal he was hungry, he misArusted his own slomach. How could | any one be hungry 1 such vVesther? | There was & aroom & block north- ward that sdv 4 » garden. Nea) Collier hated oms, but thix wae | near and it might be comperatively oonl. He felt ke tearoom food—salad, 1ed tes. # shernet all the silly things that silly women lke W eal in wm“».n pinces It wes crowded. as he might have known 1t would be, but the waltress led him 5 & tabie, end he regarded what | presumably WaL L. eighleenth carbon | orchids designed to be worn on the | a8 that deserved the hest! THE SUNDAY STAR. WASHINGTON, D. . TEBRUARY 26 1928—PART 7. By Phyllis Duganne His Pal Had Implored Him to Be Nice to Her. H» drank a swallow ot consomme. “Do you eat here often?™ Not that he cared: e was never coming here again od at him wih grave gray Know. you don't have to k to me!™ she said. “Nothing any- sald could possibiy intercst, amuss or even annoy me today!” H> smiled. “Did_you ever sce such weather?” There, it was ow ¢ cooler for having responded An ) ve never boen in the they can tourh this-—oh She dabbed at her forchead h a wispy. inefTectual handkerchicf. drew & flufly powder-pull from her bag snd <'appad ot hor fushed face viclous- ! A faint perfume emanaied toward him “Wender how long it'll keep up? If 1 could gt up the energr. I'd go out ol town for the week end.™ Har aashes drooped over “I've baen thinking of that, m trains ere so hot. And then o pack!™ | He knew quite how she felt. “Ever | been in Provincetown?” Now that she'd told him that he need; so difficult. And he in2 2t her: the listlessness that showed its2lf in every line of her slim body was 0 obviously alion to her. He found ' himsell wendering whai she would be tike in a temperature of, say, 7) dogrecs! “Is it covl?™ H> grnned. "It ought to be. 1 g 1 wiil go up tenight. alter all. There a train” H> hesitate Larry had asked him to kecep an eye on this lifile girl. Fraternity brother and all. . . She looked so pathetically hot! *“Look here. why don’t you come up. too? I could grt your resarvation when I get mln(-'._‘ Probably do you a world of hor eyes 1. But ou have Instantly he could have kicked him- self. What did he want a strange girl | tagging along for? He was going up to s Norma Day! Wasn't his life com- plicated enough? She was considering h's sugg: “1 ought to go out of town—if y in the intorest of truth,” she admitted. “I've told three different men that I'm spending the week end in Marblehead— wherever that st He laughed (n spite of his irritation “Et tu. Brute!” he murmured. And. as she looked blank. “I've been using the Marblehead gag. myself!" Her smile came slow] Oh! But if | only people wouldn’t be so darned social 1 broke two engage- in hot weather! ments for tonight. It—can you im- agine.” s demanded. with genuine violence. “a man inhumen enough to try to hold a girl’s hand this weather?" | He enorted. So she blamed men for that—when probably she stuck her hand out where a man couldn't pos- Little girls * * * littel girls! 'd like to go to Provincetown.” she | seid. thoughtfully. “I don't know any one there, and maybe I could rest.” Her eyes met his. “Look here, Mr. Col- her, if youll just pretend that we haven't met at all, T'l be cternally grateful to you for bucking me up like | this! 1 actually feel as though I could g0 somewhere now. But I dont want | to have to talk to any one. If vou'd | get my reservation. then I could call | for it at the station!™ | An excellent idea. thought Neal! a | girl after his own heart! | “Righto!” hs said. and would have let it go at that. had not gallantry, or | whatever it was, interfered. “The train | doesn't leave until midnight.” he heard himself saying. “Would you like to go to IA show, |hl§hrvenln(?" i “A show!" e regarded him, stonily. | “T'd 1ike.” she said. “to go back to m’yi own apsrtment. where the telephone and door bell are plugged. and try to u,l::‘nddhl'mh:: mc lexplm?r!“ She openad her vely. “How much Wil the tickels be?" iy “Oh. you can pay me later!” | s”s;;ie ;h:u‘xtm mu‘:’—-men!" she | said. “But it's too argue, now. | Good night. Mr. Collier.” Listiessly. she rose, nodded. and de parted, and Neal watched her go with 2 mixture of relief and irritation. What did she mean—men—men? | Little girls . . . little girls! | Monday afternoon’s mail brought him | a letter from her, with a check, a phrase of thanks for his trouble, and the polite wish that he drop In and see her some time. It was a very polite wish, quite a5 though she didn't really give a hoot | whether she ever saw h'magain or not. % % % "THE heat. like the white crest of one of those liquid waves In which he had been swimming with Norma ‘Dl;' tion. | jess | Off Cape Cod, had broken, and the city | than as it should from a plane. With a | was merely its torrid July self. Neal | was wondering what he should do with | the evening One had to do something Pezgy. Dorothy, Susanna . . . he'd tol *hem each that he would call on his return, He wondered whether Ann Poole’ Dame was in the telephone hook. Lt | 5. arently si s A y sie had unplugged | I;?n‘f'arml;? This is Neal Collier. ‘onde you were dof ! this evening i | d he might have known | that she would be. No girl would be so clrglus of the interest of as free and eligible a young man as himself unless she was quite sure of the interest of | others equally free and eligible. | n"‘:lhfn w:l you dine with me? Wed- | sday? ny particulas ' v y particular show yuud’ His better instincts conquered him. as :‘n!ofle.n, and hrb:;llm Peggy Tilling- st. whose volce bled with ple: 3 8he'd love to come! s On Wednesday afternoon he dis- patched o Ann Poole the requisite flow- ers, one of those graceful houquets of shoulder of an evening frock Bhe knew her stuft; her frock was of palest lavender chiffon and her satin slippers repeated exactly the deeper tone of the flowers. Mentally, as he helped | her arrange the heavy folds of & cream- colored Bpanish shawl, Neal changed the cholce of the night club to which they would eventually wander. A gown such “larry'll be back in & day or two, won't he?” he asked her. He found himself just a touch curious in regard W _her feelings for the Fat Boy. “Ob, 1 s'pose so!" Bh ghtly. “lLarry's an old dear stanchly “1 know.” He found himself thinking {of Peggy Tillinghast. Now, if only she 1 and Larry could fall in love—- After the theater, when he directed flushed ahe sald copy of the typewriten menu. Food! He loored hopelessiy st the food before | ne y,ung women who set fecing him g fe cold cmsomme’s quie g008,” sne suid unexpectedly “Thanks” He glanced at her sympa- theticelly. One could see that she had started out bravely enough. Without doubt, the wilted white organdie collar wnd cufls of her dress had been fresh, when she left Ler home “Yowre Neal Colller, aren’t your” Her tired volce seemed o lmply that she didn’t perticularly care. “I'm Ann Foole Ann Poole? Somehow it vas & cool neme. He liked it, and he looked st Bier egai before Le temembered Of ie little gl over whom Larry ed on and on He g #l the girl. Woy had he come here? Now lie'd have 1o make conversation by the sprightly young man' ‘The only yemark hie could tiink of concerned the weather, and thal wae just & bit 100 much! order and glsnced sgain | the cab driver W the night club, he saw {thal she was watching him | ,o1 can’t stay out oo lnte,” she said | “You know, I'm one of those poor work- | ing_ giris!” | Working girl' Bhe certainly didn't { ook ! obubly another of these fool modern women who use work as an ex- cuse for living away from dull homes, and generous allowances W purchase frocks such ms the one she was wei ing. Dorothy MeDougel was like that, “What do you do?” he inquired in- dulgently. “Work in & bank.” “A bank?" | #he nodded. “1ts & funny job. ¥m & sort of Information bureau 1o our in- | vestors “I don't understand “IUs ruther u special Joh You see, they call up and ask me how the snow: plow market 1s in Nicaragus, or where they can get the hest price for their spples and what's the chespest way to X thing. |and they danced—and never | Kelly. who, in spite of herself, thrilled | rather dear—and Dickic Webster, who | was the best dancer that she knew. W The cab dbew to the curb and he halped hor out. A funny sort of girl. But she danced—divinely was the word! | —-and h» noticed that other young men bestowed envious glances upon him. Qoing home she settled back in the! taxi with ths usual little sigh. “I'm! tired!" she satd. He grinned and sid his arm tenta- riveiy toward hor shouldes But in the dimness ef the cab’s interio stared him down. “What would happen to a young man it he didn't pat his arm around a girl * sh» demanded. Do they to be his wife. But he remembered, | guiltily that in tender moments of (h(! previous Spring he had admitted ¢ deep-rooted longing for a real home, | And now Larry was getting a bit out of nand. | “1 do =0 hate to hurt him!" Ann; «atd, 1 guess—T guess I'd just better | toll him that we'd botter not see each | oth~r any more!" Neal felt sorry for Lar To have Ann shut forever from on life! Hz dincd alone on the night of the parting Poor oid Larry! Back in hic own apartment, Neal tried to read. but the room was stifling and his mrmi(hls1 ! enot out in all directlons. He decided to foke a walk, and somehow. without hought, his return led him | house, He glanced at hic E o'clock—-nnd up at her) Nghted windows, H2'd run up just for | A minute. | H:r deor opened a erack, and her race. flushed from crying, peered out at_him. “Oh, Neal--honest. I'm awfully glad to sen you! I've had such a time! And 1 feel like such a Flg!" | “It fsn't your fault,” he soothed her.! “But it is! He--he cried. Neal!” | Neal turned away to hide an invol-| untary smile at the picture of poor | pink old Larry in tea Then he looked at Ann. cute tonight,” he said. Har hair was pushed away from her forehead and stcod about her head in a ftoorder that was charming. She looked at him thoughtfully “Went some nice cold ginger ale?” L "JHERE was a puzzled expression on | her open a Neal Collter's face as he watched small ruplxm,rd nknd tg:e yn two glasses from a gleaming row; o oliomed her into a tiny kitchen- fine ‘o He was irritated. It wesn't as though no'd wanted to pat his arm around b “Girls expoct it don't th " he e 2 they just got hardened (o ! fek and tireu of the same old Man meets a girl and gives her Flowers-—candy. Dinner--the theater. Just one kiss. Gee!" She was ! lcaning back.* languid and scorntul, in| hot evening air “It isn't.” she said “that I don't sometimes like | it But you can got fod up with any- “It you're half as tca up as I am- an angrily. “Giris —girl 1. you can call it a truce with told him. “Mea! I'm so sick But what ean you do? You have to have some one (o piay W Gee!™ He grinnsd “If you Knew how sick | was—but. as you say, you have to associate with some one.” He | stared at her. She was pretty: undoubt- | edly. she was popular. | “You look | And yet—— | 1 think we ought to be friends!" | sald. I like you.” | “I like you!" At her door. she held ! out a strong young hand. “Good-night, ‘ Mr. Colifer. “I've had a nice time.” This girl, he reflected, as he dismissed | he followed the cab and walked home through the | ctte. warm evening air, was a peach! Sl\ci “Here, let me do that!™ y was eifferent from other girls, somehow. | He cracked the ice and dropped 1t R into the glasses; beside him, Ann was | l‘IE would never have believed it pos- sible. yet here it was happening. | wiping away the fragments of ice from | the clean white board beside the enam- | cled sink. She hung up the dish-| Neal Collifer was having a friendship— | towel on a small wooden rack, a beautiful friendship—with a girl!| “Bottie opener’s over \hljl‘(‘ They dined together; occasionally, even, HetL raw. wilh fcan they lunched; they went to the theater did the | remotest suspicion of sentiment creep into their friedship. Ruthlessly they discussed their mutual failings. ! “Weil. how are all the little girls?” Ann would ask him when they met after several days' separation. “How are all the little boys?” he | would retort. “Hasn't your kind heart got the better of you? ‘What! No en- gagement ring?” He told her about Peggy—and Dor- othy—and Susanna. And she told him about Larry and the mad Irishman, Joe curtains of checked gingham at the | open window, and the gingham ruffic | that fell, like a petticoat, about the | i “Haven't you ever seen it before?” Her volce drifted carelessly back from the other room. and he stood & moment longer. How clean the stew pans were, hanging from copper hooks on ihe wall; the blue and white lino- leum cn the floor was spotless—anc | three red geranfums in earthen pot bloomed on the window sill | “I didn't know you were so do- mestic,” he said, as he joined her. She made a face at him H: laughed with her, but there was !a reluctance in his laughter. He wa: | genuinely impressed. Never before had he known a girl who was at once sc y, so competent in a responsible | job, snd so orderly and efficient in her | home! | So you're not going to see Larry | any more?” he asked, sitting down a one end of the couch and stil looking about the apartment. For the first time it struck him that he'd hardly | bren inside the place—just to ster | within_the dcor when he called for her. It would be fun to have dinner | here some time, just the two of them her—and Sanford Harrison, who was co absurdly polite and formal and | He didn't think of Ann as—well, as belonging to the generic class of little girls. She was his friend, his very best friend. She was—oh, Ann great! And it was that feeling ich made the scene with Larry Hunt all the more appalling. Larry was Ann's Peggy . . . just as the Irishman her Dorothy. He was dear and sweet, and gentle and very much in love with her, and Ann was forced to admit that she had en- couraged him. He was so—well, so earnest—that she’d never had the heert to tell him definitely “no.” together. | Oh, yes, Neal understood that well! | “I think it's better.” She was sip- | He had never asked Peggy Tillinghast | ping her ginger ale gravely. | “Oh, | | needle gleamed. | some other man! | depths of a chair. | get sore about! what's the use, Neal? A girl and | man_can be friends, as we are, 1 they're not silly, but when you stari| off wrong-—-" 8he paused. “Let'r not talk about {t." “Yeeh." His intetest in Larry Hun! had evaporated. anyway. On a small mahougany table, a green basket was heaped with filmy silk stockings; # thrust through what Iooked, from where he sat, to be an un‘l:inmmonly neat darn. . . . “Ann!" he sald. She looked up at him quickly. “Want me !flpre ginger ale? I do. Will you L 1t? }_lm returned to the kitchenette, that absurdly feminine, almost tender. little room that was giving him a new fcture of Ann. He wrenched the cap rom {he bottle, frritably. What was the matter with him? He felt—his heart was pumping furiously—he feilt disturbed and upset. ‘The clock on the shelf above the sink showed that | was after 11. He ought to go home and let Ann go to bed. She'd had s trying day. But he didn't want to gc home. He wanted— ‘The doorbell cut sharply through his thoughts; he heard the quick patter o her feet. Then her volce, surprised and a little distressed: “Why—Larry!" “I couldn’t go away without seeing vou again. I had to see you, Ann! " The fat boy's voice was thick and unnatural. “But 1t's late, Larry. You shouldn't —I'm going to bed in just & few min- utes.” His cue, Neal reflected, to re- main in the kitchenette. “I don't see what more there can be for us to say, Lany!” “I love you. Ann, 1 know you've got it into your head that you won't marry me, but——" Avparently Larry had swayed against the open door; theie was a sharp bang. the sound of stumbling feet. Ann’s voice held a dangerously rea- sonable quality. “Yes, Larry, but we can't discuss it now. You must go. please. - You'll wake every onme in the house.” “I won't go. this!” EL I ] I won't be put off His voice rose !hrlll; 'l'h(\’r‘:(S There's—" You—-* :‘g{rry. Voll'ril drunk! ‘Of course, I'm drunk. What'd you think I'd do? I—whose hat is lhn"‘;" Neal wanted to laugh. There wac an instant's pause. Then: | “Oh. come in and s 3'0\; c:‘n "l hut the door, if | s Neal emerged from the kitchen- ette, Ann was guidin; 7] fa i, [ g Larry into the “You!" said Larry, melodrama. “No." Neal answered, cheerfully. Botween them Ann hesitatzd, and | suddenly there was amusement in her | gray eyes. She addressed Larry in the precise, clipped tone of a well-trained actress. “Won't you—sit dovn?" It was so exactly like a line in a play that Neal grinned. Larry caught the grin and lunged toward him, and Neai’ hands tightened on his arms, ani shoved him gently downward into the in & tone of pure “Look here, Larry, there's nothing to L 1 dropped in to s A'nn'. and I'm going on home now. You'd better come with me and spend the night at my place.” “You!" sald Larry again, and he glowered at Ann. “You sajd— She was beginning to get angry. “It doesn't in the least matter what I saiq!" she interrupted, firmly. “Except that THE BEAUTIFUL FRIENDSHIP “YOU'RE NEAL COLLIER, AREN'T 10U?" HER TIRED VOICE SEEMED TO IMPLY THAT SHE DIDN'T PARTICULARLY CARE. “Fraternity brother,” said Larry, pa- thetically. “I s'pose you're in love with each other! 18 1t wouldn't affair if we were!” Ann said. cruelly "‘rn'ouxh as a matter of fact—we're not!" Suddenly Larry remembered. “You said there was some one else!” he ex retorted, shortly. “You said you had to get home be- cause you were expecting somebody. ‘You bought ginger 1 thought you meant 4 girl. And. all the time—my best friend—-"" Ann's face was crimson. you take him away?>" Neal looked at her. pretty and siender. “Will you. Neal?" “Yes." Larry had become docile. Lamb-like, he followed Neal through the hall, down the stairs, out into the muggy street. e thought it was you! It— " Neal said, shortly. I wish !uflns at him, and Neal though he were staring at himself. He wished it was! Did he: What did he mean? Ann, his friend, toward whom there was to be no senti- ment! He ought to telephone her that Larry was safely in bed. It was late, of course. but she might b* worrying. And he felt that he wanted to hear her voice. Everything seemed, suddenly, so mixed U Annt* Her voicé was unnatural. “1 was afraid it might be Larry.” “Sleeping like a baby. He'll be all ht. Ann!" “Yes." “Neal wili So little and I sald I didn't want to se¢ you any| more—and I don't! Never!" “You're not—too upset?” She ldughed. “Of course not." Silence, constrained, awkward. He District Had First Skyscraper BY UTHAI VINCENT WILCOX. | E are still planning on doing | somcthing for the Washing- ton Monument. That great | shaft of stone, the most fa- miliar memorial ever erected | in this country, has been planned and | replanncd since the death of Washing- | ton. It has ever been the most popular | monument in America. | The coming March 4 marks exactly | 80 years since the day the corner stone | was laid in 1848. | Present plans of the National Com- mission of Fine Arts are to “complete the base” Congress is about to author- ize this action, which will correct the architectural defect that causes anj| obeliek to rise from a mound rather | great and smooth stone level provided, | the shaft will appear even taller than it does now. | This factor of height has always been the dominant one. It was emphasized v the first proposers of a memorial. In ; he National Intelligencer of February 11, 1836. the editor gave much space o a description of a plan for a temple- Iike memorial. He concluded his plea by saying that “the design would cost in its execution about a milllon dollars | and would be the highest edifice in the world and the most stupendous and magnificent monument ever erected to | e n .‘YThe highest ever,” has been the keynote from the first. It is possible that in the plans for “the highest and most stupendous” there was germinat- Ing the seed of the skyscraper edifice Who can say? The newspapers of an early day pub- lished many columns on the stupendous height of the Washington Monument. A reporter of the National Republic was assigned by the editor o make & trip to the top of the Monument while the workmen were preparing for the placing of the 300-ton cap stone. So awed was this writer by this trip skyward that his account, as published in the paper, showed that he had turned from re- porting to prophesying. And so im- pressed was the editor that two column | of five-point type gave to A walting | world the thrilling experience | “The reporter incidentally notes that | John A. Roebling and a son, both of | Trenton, N. J., were directing activitie: and that the elevator which lifted the stone to its place was made expressly | for this purpose “All the modern bullding pliances are Lo be seen on the summit,” he wrote ! “By their use one man can easily ralsc and handle and put into place stones weighing from 3 to 5 tons.” “The view from the u;P 15 exquisite,” he contnued. ‘Then sitting down on a block of marble he opened his eyes as u seer and “swept his gaze across Uhe n{ml where once stood the Washington that he knew The earth was covered with magnificent dwellings, which | wonld have been the grandest palaces | entury hefore. Glorlous plles of granite and marble reared thelr sym- metrical heads high into the clouds, mlll;h higher than the Monument it- et This, it _seems, was the work of u century. He continued in prophecy “Around many of the bulldings were | parks thick with luxuriant follage through which merry fountains could be seen sending aloft parabolas of crys- tal spray. As far as the eye could sec rose continuous piles of massive bulld- | monument to some one who had been ings.” I the war, of 1890, and his lnterest ‘This being placed 10 about the year | caused him to slip and full, whereupon 1996, one Jownnes Johnson was ¥ he awoke to find that the men were ident of the United States, while in | quitting work Euarope thiones had been overturned | But it this reporter was given to and republics established. Our own [ vislons over helght, he was not such a President had undertaken many ve- | had prophet considering the span he forms, “He ordered the old butldings | covered. Judging by skyscrape ORIGI were finlshed, and 1 50 acres of territory.” ‘The city of Washington, he observed, | was about 20 miles long and 10 miles | wide, and “would have been much larger but for a five that destroyed some 300,000 houses.” But because it wasn't # commercial city, it was quite small as clties were then. The houses, many of them, were higher than the Monument, | “the ‘majority being some 600 or 700 feet high” w they extend over | CEER “I"HE prophesying reporter discovered another of his kind while in his trance and talked over city conditions In America, He found that Waal ton’s bulldings were quite small in partson with those in New Jerse “Why, these buildings in Washin, are nothing more than back sheds wh compared with those in New Jersey, sald his seer friend. “Why, my house in Ringtaliburg 15 not much of a house, but she's eleven hundred feet tall " At about this stage of the vision, he looked over toward Arlington to notice that public oMctals were unvelling You live around here, don't you?" he 4 her Vez,” the enig, Motiestly, . gel ‘em there. IUs fun'” Neal Collier stared at her. “But Low 4o you know?” “hawls W oup, slliyl” tn be torn down and destroyed He | might say that he may he then began butiding where the Capitol | 1998 shall come. However, It 18 hoped stood, 1o 1942 the present huildings that trafMe problems for the dwellers AL DESIGN FOR THE MONUMENT, le an ascent of the 550 feet of t ? | | | fact that the broad avenues and streets | but, when he | out to the standpipe above the Boundary. | were | & few feet longer than either, it may | that New York is any | seem that it has nothing to lose by | We've been perishing | | 1 the 700-foot buildings will have been solved by that time His emphasis on the size of the pub- lie bulldings of Washington was fairly accurate, ‘The tearing down and the bullding of new were to come a score of years sooner than predicted. After the Monument was completed, Its height continued to give the prinel- pal Interest, There was published a small booklet, which was sold at the time the frst visitors were going aky- ward, and in it there was aceount of ita writer's trip to the top. It Is entitled: “The Ascent. Its Horvors, and How Mundane Things Appear 880 fect n the Al In part this unknown writer says: "1 one feels a desire to sup full on horrors, there s no way in which sue- cess 18 40 certain and so lpnodr on his great shaft, “Whether the ascent ia caloulated to fnapire fear or not may be imagined from the reply made by one of the highest officlals in Washington to the Were you —-were vou not just rightened golng up?* “CFrightened! 1 was perfectly teer!- fed!' was the hearty response, glven with all the force of emphasis “The ascent 1s made by the elevat: which runs through the middle of ¢! areat obelisk, This elevator is & mere n,ml platform, which does not deserve the name of the alleviator, as My llulw{ puts it Tt s vather the tevi- fler. In ha'' A minute, the light of dav totally disappears and at that moment the horrors of the position suddenly | be | ment Soclety, of w swoop down. To be dangling hundreds of feet above & chasm with only a rope to pr;v:;n. [ llllll to mt‘he bottom A‘l’ enoug| appall any imagination. Al- though the darkness is blackness in- conceivable, and the intense silence broken only by the groaning of the o o A , ye! ul abyss appears to e of itself both ludlble?l.nfl visible. The last 150 feet of balancing between heaven and earth is like hang- ing between life and death. Even the elevator man gives up his heroic efforts to keep up the courage of the party. i “If anything conld n?cy one for the horrors of the ascent it would be the view after reaching the top. Even the most hardened sightseer must be en- thusiastic at the great panorama spread out before him. The vast Treasury Building looks like a Lilliputian house - r oo GTHE bulldings appear massed to- gether, not in little squares. but in long rectangles. This is due to the radiating from the Monument are vis- ible for their entire length while the thoroughfares running at right angles are hid behind the houses. —Sixteenth street, reaching from Lafavette Square is particularly noticeable. The full grandeur of the Capitol is then for the first time realized. When it is remem- bered that the Capitol is of almost the 1dentical dimensions of the Great Pyra: mid, and of St. Peter's, being perhaj looking at it from any point of ele- vation. “Everything else grows minute from the top of the Monument, except the white splendor of the Capitol. It seems to be & mountain instead of a hill, and amid the diminishing of every other object, the great white dome stands oul ly, so high that it looks as though poised in air. It is & queer sen- sation to look over the top of the dess to the ridge which forms the watershed of Chesapeake Bay. Iatter is not viaible, nor can Baltimore seen. “A look at the elevator and a | proposition to descend s enough to Kill | street, eyes on the bay. . he'd thought Norma so much prettier . any enthusiasm, however. Bul it is by comparison with the ascent simply We- lightful. To the simultaneous and earnest assurances made to the elevator man that nobody in the party would ever do so any more, he sardonically re- plied, ‘All of ‘em says that.'" ‘The Washington Monument, as oviginally planned I\R the early Monu- ieh Chief Justice John Marshall was the president, called for & shaft 600 feet high. This was not carried into eftect, because of lack of money and the fears that the founda- tion would not be strong enough to endure the tremendous welght. The present shaft is 300 feet A'y inches high, upon which reats the cap- stone, It s estimated that the shaft would come t0 & point at & helght of two and two-thivds ita nt altitude ~~that 8. the Monument would be con- alderably more than 1,000 feet tall if it had allowed to run to a point va at fi‘. time pl:mwfw - ow resting upon a o of pure aluminum, the frst to be casl i America. 80 unusual was this metal that & fashionable jeweler's shop on Pennaylvania avenue disple aluminum cup for many weeks in its window, and viaitors from (ar and near in the least your | wanted to say something else . he didn't know what . . “Well—good night."” | “Good night. Neal.” | He sat, holding the telephone in his | hands. He hadn't done anything fo rangsr her! Yet he fclt that she was | angry. Perhzps—perhaps she thought that he thought—oh. it was too in- olved! Larry was such a fool! If it adn’t been for him— | He stripped off his tie and opened | his collar. Hot . hot! ‘What | a fool he was! interpret the slightcst act as a sign that a man is in love with them! It was a suffocating night! she have bought ginger ale. without his trying to read into it some subtle mean- ing? She probably had been thirsty! Why shouldn't she soften her dismissal of Larry with whatever lies she chose? Wouldn't have hurt his feelings, ans. it she'd told Larry that they were s;crmy married! Married—what an idea! He!nn! to bedkv;m; a rlgurs !iel- ing of guilt, of disloyaity tcwai nr and their friendship. And. in the Fat Boy had any early engagements that was his funeral! He couldn't bear the thought of facing him, in the carly morning light. . R Hl telephoned Ann and asked her to have lunch with him. 5 “Sorry—I'm just grabbing a sandwicl, We're frightfully rushed down here. She bean rushed on other occa- sions, but this day he was not satisfled Something alien had crept into their relationship. fixd‘hhe ne e assured. Coul e really Could she txnnxmme 't know you were so ml he had said. Could she thi 3 " He called Ann the next morni “Gone on vacation.” How laconic, how swfichm S rators! er own ll2d the o again. ne“‘:l';o you know where Miss Peole has one?" i A wait, interminable. “Nope. “Thank you.” of panic, he walked to Ann's apar: ment. There was no answer to his knock. He found the janitor. Mis Poole had left no forwarding addres: She was angry with him, then! He'd riendship! ‘m;l:‘e:hlned -lnpt at the tea room Hol,‘.mum...wouldhee\rrbe v | DT ined alone at an expensive Tes- | taurant, and went to the theater. No fun in that! He felt miserably alone. | But there was no one he wanted 1o se2 | It was too hot for sociabilit: At least, | New York was . . Provincetorn—and Nor seized the thought grateful was & girl \eud rememd live: ) ;‘-‘fl- e he would be crisp and cool in & Summer frock. And thers -:_, the bay. the cool. blue Massachusetis pay. in which one could swim. The tramn had been hot and emerged, the nex: m dustless air_fanned his f: his lungs. Carrying his suit- | cass, he walked toward the street tha runs paraliel to the curving shore. The bay lay blue and placid. White sail e calm and cool agamnst the waier and white gulls circled rhythmically. | “Neal Collie | He turned | at Norma Day “Think of seein was & bit wan. - 4 Day! He . There ing. salty. and filled om the water and looked you!" Her & try to tell m» hotter than this! for a \\N:! And the mosquitoes—!" She | "Hie looked at her steadily. Then, “Oh. | do you call this hot?" he asked care- lessly. He drew in another long breatn of the warm, saity air. Clean and dust- less, with no mixture of asline and steaming asphalt! i “Hot! I've never seen such weather She surveyed him with the hostile gas of the :u?!rrer toward one who sufters Qod- | not—the loathing of the victim of sea- | sickness toward the good satlor. “Come The|on up and see us” she invited, and. went on. “Thanks.” He continued his the way down runny . than_that! Thought of her as quite A different person! He shrugged and dismissed her from his mind He'd leave his things at the hotel and go down to the shore for a swim before lunch. Swim and lie on the sand, luxuriously. DI 'l‘NK baach was almost deserted, when he reached it. But he didn't care Just to paddle a bit in shallow water, o lle on his back in this freshness, was epough. A hydroplane, humming ke ‘\'iu bee. was coming up the har- por; watching iis graceful progress, he did not see the parasal an the sand un- l he bumped into it “Oh, 1 bag your pardon!" It was A blue parasol that he ad- dressed, clear Blue, like the sky and the bay. From behind it a girl's head and & pair of coal gray oyes amusedly nto his. ondered {f {:u\l come down L1 hoped you would! He atared, unbelievingly. He hadn't though one could forget & thing lke Ahat In four days' He dropped to the | Like silly girls. who | Why shculdn't | They were friends, he and Ann!| morning. he left Larry sleeping. If the | to b re- | Pe neartiess, were | hone did not answer; In the morning. with a sense slmost | ! And her eyes—Neal had never seen her | eyes so wide open, so fresh. or so deep. | 7“I'm so rested! I've had taree o { the most heavenly days! And the eve- nings—Neal, there’s such a moon! Th beach is all siiver and the water's a. prickly with little lights!” She was smiling at him. lips parted. eyes spar- kling. Vivacious . . . he'd never thought of Ann as that! “Sounds most romantic.” he said. “1 suppose you have a swain to emjoy it with you?” She laughed toes into that? I the sand. *“ haven't!” Her eyes continued to look into his. “It's o cool, Neal! I mean—" She looked down. and he realized that he was still holding her hand. He flushed and released it. “No! I mean —isn't it mhm’rxx- to hold a girl's hand e thist~ in weather li e His voice faltered. He this Ann, didn't under- stand her. They were friends, friends! He must remember that! He mustn't Irighten her again. lose her. now that | he had found her! He looked at her beseechingly. “You look just 1sh!” she told . “Trains stuffy. Why don't you run down and duck in that gorgecus water—I stayed | in so long that my fingers got all puck- ered!—and then come back and talk?” | She watched him., smiling. as splashed about, as he emerged and ran up the beach toward her. A breeze | came rippling from the Truro hills. and it struck against his skin, cool and tin- gling. It seemed to enter his head, scat- tering thos> half-formed feers sand ap- prohensions which had lodged there. . Dorothy. Susanna. Norma Day— was Ann. who was waling tor him “Gosh, that was great!" He sank down baside her. leaned forwary and {placed a band on the back of her neck. where the sun had been beating. She Jooksd up at him expectan “Friends, my eye!” said Neal Collier ¢~ plesively. “I mean—" He put his | dripping arm about her shoulders. sw.d kissad her. with ccol. saity lps. “I'm I!gout you, Ann! Do you ime me | " She was still smiling . . . and rome- how he hadn't been afraid that she wouldn's be. She leaned toward and returned his kiss, with an enth: sm that amazed an old Gsherman. mending his na, just & few yards down the beach. ~Of course. I do!" she sail. And whatever else might follcw. both Neal Collier and Ann Poole kuew then that their beautiful—pure ani unadul- terated—{riendship was fo mare. ' ike an exotic, tropical flower. it had with- ered in a temperature of less than and dug her 't life like i didn't know Trades Banish Disease. TANNER& and printing ink fac- tories confer exemption from tubers culosis and yes in turpentine fac- tories never h: rheumatism. Copper mining excludes the possidility of ty- phoid among the workers. Shepherds enjoy remarkable health. The odor of sheep appears to exercse some nflu- tending to the prevention of dis- Sheep are said t0 de especially or whooping cough. so that in & sheep country, en a child s taken that malady. it i the cus- t it among sheep to n working in lave: § or distilling it s ffer from neuralgia © nervous headache. Lavender. howe is as good as a 4 tone to the from nervous breakdown frequentiy give their services gratis to lavende in order that they may duil tality. Salt miners o in blizsard weat catching colds, among these work wrar Summer clothes without fear of colds are unknown | Pipe-Laying Machine. QOR a long time the residents arid lands felt the need of a device that would manufacture and lay a oo !tinuous concrete pipe. The necessty becomes apparent whenever there ! an irrigmtion or drsinage project afoos 1 The jountad pipe s expensive and folnts decomes separated. Roia And their way through the tiny erevices {and force the sactions apart. | The problem has it -\xrw‘n Deen solved by the mvention of & machive that lays a continwous Mne of oonereis {pipe. which i polished within and with- out as 1t is depasited i the diteh. The {machine moves along @t the diteh ahead {of the fAuthad The devive ma |de operated el DY hand or moio ipower, and will manufacture pe o to 30 inches and as small as may & desired There i3 adsolutely 1o perves ation and pipe Ikl years ago with s device 18 Sl i the ground and afte g atisfactory service. The conereie dumped Mo & hopper, where it & foreed backward ".\“Xl }&\‘k hl:‘lr‘ ‘h‘l -~ [ causd 0 revelve by the turn R I whee! mountad on an \utun:‘&u» E Canal Rfiilt‘ in Midair. PHE reclamation authorities resorted H 10 & novel xpadient I the dulid- fing of & canal along the side of & mowa- d - ADls | remembered that she was so pretty ! As |yt Yakima. Wash 1 Down (0 the valley bekw there was fplenty of water. sand and graved, all the CAMe to gaze upon it This bit of white | sand bestde her, eyes olnging 0 Der |, agentials, 1 (et noeded [0 oanere: metal is now and then visible when the rays of the -llnfl bright spot. Aviators frequently mentioned this veflection having the brilliancy of & spotlight. 1t has now come 1o be one of the prineipal nl"hll rnlut out ar obaerved by thoss who take the alghtseeing trip by air over the National Capital, 4 | hols tace. 0 strike full on its sides | Ahe held out her hand. and it was M these exsenitials Was Aw waking of the tp of the matt @ conl and frman ool that e aidn't | Aecedigly, v drop 1t but continued, shamelessly, to it i his S AL divine here®™ she asked him, NCAR You Delieve that 1ts hot, any~ wherer" Her cheeks were pink. but they were pink, Wees I the marming. L FUR the wouniai side, W0 oot higher N Whe engineers W MOk the concrets sections o e canat iluu\ i the valley and haisi |Rn D Paudtion. A trotley was vigged from valley up the mountaimaide and means the conerels seviiug of canal Hning, malded down delow, were hosted o pace he »