Evening Star Newspaper, December 23, 1928, Page 72

HE whole family seemed to be snowed under with tissue paper, and yet not all the presents were opened In one end of the room the tree glittered mag- nificently with its Christmas yield of electric flowers and fruit, colored birds and shining balls. Presents, handed out by Jerry Morgan, master of the house and chief official of the celebra- tion, were being exclaimed over, and there were recurrent high spots of ex- citement as now, when Marie, Phyllis Morgan’s young sister, lifted the cover of a tiny blue box and held up a dia- mond and amethyst bracelet, while Christopher, her fiance, stood by the door, rapturous at her happiness. Phyllis had been kept steadily rejoic- ing over the children’s satisfactions, and her adjectives were growing a lit- tle weary. It had been fun to see Jerry's pleasure in the new silk dressing gown she had bought for him, stretch- ing her allowance to its very limit. She liked being hostess at these family par- ties, which were always held at her house because of the children, and she was glad every one was having a good time. But at the sight of Marie’s brace- let an odd feeling came over her. She looked down, almost involuntarily, at the little pile of gifts beside her. There were the lovely napkins from her mother—they were beautifully embroid- ered and edged with lace, with the cloth to match. Marie had given her the linen pillowcases. The handker- chief had come from Cherry, who had | hemmed it herself. Bob had bought a package of absurd pink writing paper that his 10-year-old soul rejoiced in,, for his mother. The chair backs of | real filet—yes, she needed those. The ones in the living room were fraying. All the presents were lovely—and yet, as Phyllis looked over at Marie, who was still holding her wrist up to the light, adorned already with its expen- sive_bauble, she wondered what Jerry would give her. His present hadn't come yet. Yes, here it was. Jerry, in his role of Santa Claus, was. bringing an enormous box to his wife. “The children have had enough,” sald A Christmas beauty as a debutante, it made her feel queer. She sat at the head of the Christmas supper table and tried to bring her spir-~ its up to par. ‘What will you have, mother?” asked Jerry, carving the turkey. He was not addresing his own mother. He was speaking to Phyllis, for he had fallen into the way of calling her that. At first she had liked it. It was a con- stant naming of the marvelous bond be- tween them. Now she was rather less fond. of the casual way he said it, using it in place of almost all the old endear- ments. It made her feel older and re- minded her of her primary responsibil- ities. Tonight it reminded her that she was the head of a family and not at all a girl, while secretly she kept nudging down that outrageous jealousy of Marie, who was, after all, only five years younger and looked like a poem in vel- vet ihe color of ashes of roses. Christo- pher was talking to Marie in a low, ab- sorbed voice, and Phyllis, seated be- tween her mother-in-law and her eldest aunt, wondered what he said to bring that enchanted look into Marie’s eyes. N(Z!,Ts’f; lungh{nlfio-fox‘xr children. ose children of yours are growin up, Phyllis,” said_the aunt. “Tegrromorg yeai'(s"snd your Bob will be as old as ack. Phyllis looked at Jack, her youn; brother. Perhaps Bob would bey llkg that, in 10 years—independent, a little bored by every one who was even a little older than himself. In 10 years she would be 39, andl Jerry 42. What did people do after that? “You've given every one a delightful day,” said Jerry’s mother. “I hope yours has been as pleasant as ours.” Again that keen look almost embar- rassed Phyllis. “Oh, yes,” she answered; “it's always joyful to watch the children.” “Nice to be the children’s mother on Christmas, isn't it? I always found it 50 with mine. But they will grow up, and then you are only the children’s grandmother on Christmas, and that's not a full-time job.” “Being a mother is a full-time one.” “I know it is to you,” said Mrs. Morgan, kindly, “but you mustn't let them absorb you too much, you know.” Phyllis was about to answer when she saw Jack pushing back his chair. “You're not going, are you, Jack?” Jerry. “Here‘s something for the chil- dren’s mother.” Phyllis hadn’t told him what she ‘wante She hadn’t told any one, but she had a leap of secret excitement at the sight of the big box. If it should be a fur coat! It was all very well to watch other people get their presents and act as if you did not care what came your way, but secretly, at 29, with your younger sister gloating over plati- num bracelets and a pile of household linen beside you, you did care! For a minute after opening her box Phyllis did not lift her head. Jerry, fortunately, had gone back to his place beside the tree. It was several minutes before he called out to her— “How did you like my present, Phyllis? They told me that it was what you'd like. Look nice in the hall before that table, won’t it?” “It's gorgeous,” answered Phyllis, hoping her voice had no false notes. “What did you get, mother?” asked Cherry. Phyllis held it up—“A rug—a lovely old one—a treasure—" 1t was a silken Persian rug, and Phyl- lis guessed that it must have been very expensive. They needed a rug like this ¢4 the hall, and she had been telling ner mother so. But—why couldn’t Jerry have thought of something else? “It’s just a rug,” said Cherry. ‘You did want a rug, mother? Not a brace- let, like Aunt Marje?” “You've a terribly domestic mother, young one” said Phyllis brother, swinging Cherry to his shoulder; “if you gave her a tiara, she'd trade it for & set of china. She likes moldy old rugs, and green young kids.” S JPHYLLIS tried to laugh, but just then | Will's wife opened a huge box and | took out a long fur coat, dark, rich, handsome. Will watched her anxiously. *Hope you like it, he gulped. Phyllis thought she was going to cry, and then what would happen to this family party ;nq’ Jerry’s feelings and the children’s joy? But no one seemed to notice. She thought for a moment that Jerry's mother was looking at her curiously, and then the elder Mrs. Morgan began talking to some one else with an ab- sorption that showed her mind was far from Phyllis, Jerry, his duties over, came up to his wife, “Tired?’ he asked. “Oh, just a little. But it is such fun to watch the children.” That was the way to restore her equi- | librium, to think about the children. Christmas was for them, primarily. Phyllis concentrated on that thought while she picked up paper and cau- tioned the children against eating more candy and admired Marie’s lovely lin- gerie. Marie always had heaps of pres- ents, but that was natural to any one as young and lovely as Marie. So many of Phyllis' friends and relatives now sent books or toys for the children and left Phyllis and Jerry out, except for a card. That was what was customary when you had a family, and it was, of course, both right and proper. The rest of the party went to the liv- ing room, and Marie sang ballads while Christopher leaned over the piano and admired her, Phylis resented the fact that no one thought of her any more, | was planning a Christmas present for she asked. HOW DREADFUL TO BE CRY DREADFUL FOR A HAPPY STILL SHE CRIED. - . “I have an engagement. Sorry.” “Oh, we all know,” taunted Marie. “Well, you'll be along yourself later,” Jack returned, “and I've got to get out to Clff Heights and back. I won't be there before 10 now.” His mother looked after him as he disappeared through the door. She was a white-haired old lady, as softly sweet as Mrs. Morgan was definite and cap- able, and her glance at Jack ‘was the slightly lonesome look of the mother who is left behind ingvitably and naturally. ‘With supper over, the group scattered again. * ok Kk Tl-m young people in the party seemed to melt away. Phyllis saw Jerry settle down with Uncle Alec to talk business. When every one was comfort- able, she went to look at the children again and make sure that they were not feverish after their big day. Cherry had seemed so flushed when she went to bed. But she was all right now. And suddenly the disappointment of the day seemed to come over Phyllis again. She buried her face in her hands and let the tears come quietly. How dreadful to be crying on Christ- mas! How dreadful for a happy wife and mother, and still she cried. And Mrs. Morgan, who had seen everything, her daughter-in-law that would startle the entire family. At first the plan seemed absurd. When the elder Mrs. Morgan had broached it, Phyllis had refused to think of it. She couldn't let her parents-in-law take all that responsi- bility. It was altogether too much for them to think of taking the children to Miami for the Winter. But Mrs. Morgan had not let it go with a first refusal. She came back to the point, insisting that it was the best thing for the children and the best thing for Phyllis, and she made it hard for Phyllis to refuse. Jerry was a complete convert to the plan. Then the children began their own campaign of coaxing, which was partly instigated by Mrs. Morgan. But, as Phyllis said to her own mother, it didn’t seem right. o “If it were you, mother,” said Phyllis, “I might feel differently. But Jerry's mother doesn’t seem to know much about children. How do I know the children would be properly cared for? Of course, she offers to take Ella along, and Ella is the best nursemaid I've ever had, but, even then, it hardly seems as | if I should let them, go.” | Phyllis’ and worried. This wasn’t a thing with- in her experience. Her idea of mother- ood had been, as she often said, to “give up everything for her children. It wasn‘t & thing within her -experience to send children of 8 and 10 away to spend long months in Florida with- out her care. When Phyllis finally said that she dren, Mrs. Morgan’s answer seem=d to have been waiting for just that state- ment, “I think that's the trouble, Phyllis. Yet one of these days you must get along without them. They'll be going off to school soon, you know.” mother wrinkled her brow | could not get along without the chil-| The Children’s Mother By Margaret Culkin Banning Gift Lesson “So will you, and a little more flex- ible. I wouldn't let myself be one of these ingrowing mothers, Phyllis.” “Ingrowing?” “It's a little blt like a disease, I think. Some women catch it when they're young and going through that time of bottles and cradles. You have some of the symptoms already—think- ing that the children wouldn't be safe away from you, and thinking you can't get along without them. Yet sometimes you're all tired out with being a mother and a little resentful.” Phyllis remembered those keen eyes fixed on her on Christmas day, and flushed. She wanted to be angry, but there was a cool impersonality about Mrs. Morgan against which one conldn’t rouse anger. It was like science. The elder lady looked at Phyllis kindly. “Try it out, my dear. I think it's worth trying.” low do you know?” asked Phyllis. “Well,” said Mrs. Morgan, “I've had four children.” Somehow FPhyllis never thought of Mrs. Morgan as the mother of four children. She knew Jerry's sisters and brother, and she knew that all the Mor- gan children had the greatest admira- tion for their mother. She was always the counsel they sought when they were worried _and up against things, even Jerry. But she seemed ‘such a definite individual. Even to Phyllis she wasn't just Jerry’s mother. She was Mrs. Mor- gan. \ Because she was Mrs, Morgan, Phyllis weakened. There was a week of sew- ing and planning, of packing and ad- vising, and then two small excited fig- ures waved at their mother from the rear platform of a train. Phyllis_felt faint as the train van- ished. In the first place, the *train looked dangerous. There were grinding wheels and open windows, and the rail- ing on the observation platform didn't look too firm, and there were strange- looking passengers. “I think we made a terrible mistake, Jerry. Those children aren't used to being away from home. And the lone- liness does leave an awful mark on a child's psychology. Did you notice how pathetic poor little Cherry’s face was yesterday?” “I thought she looked pretty cocky in that new coat.” “Just on the surface. sad. I noticed.” Telegrams en route and the first Her face was ING ON CHRISTMAS! HOW WIFE AND MOTHER, AND letters from the children told a story of joy. Cherry and Bob seemed to have set themselves industriously to the task of having a good time. Indeed, in Cherry’s second letter she remarked in must write you, but I will only write a little bit, because it is nicer on the sand. I like it here better than home, because we have more fun. We wear out our new bathing suits—" It was ridiculous to let a child’s letter hurt so, but Phyllis went through a bad hour, an hour filled with emotions that seemed to spring to life all at once. Jealousy of Mrs. Morgan, pity for her- Seif at being so soon unnecessary to ner children, a dreadful sense of abandon- ment. She went to see her mother next day. Marle dropped in, with half a dozen other girls, all very gay and full of bridesmaids’ plans. It was light talk, but it was diverse too, with its spar- kling of gossip about charity benefits and the jobs some of the girls had or pretended they wanted. Marie's life was very full, just as Phyllis’ own life had been before she married. When the girls spoke to her, they invariably asked how the children were. Marie noticed that. “I should think you'd crack the next person who -asked you about those kids!” she said humorously. “Why?” “Oh, the questions are so mechanical. They look at you and the idea ‘chil- dren’ pops into their heads. They seem to think it’s the only thing to say to ou.” “Wait “until you're married,” said Phyllis. “Oh, I shall be quite different.” Phyllis made a gesture of scoffing. “I tell you I shall be. My children aren’t going to be my whole life” in- sisted Marfe. * “Don’t be too sure.” “But I am sure,” said Marie, and she looked so. “I adore Christopher, and I never mean to let him be pushed out of the way. My gracious,” she added, driven on by the skeptical smile Phyllis was wearing, “I've certainly had my lesson in watching you and mother!” “Me and mother” “You're just alike,” said Marle. “You live in your children, and it's dear of you and all that. But it has draw- backs. Here are Christopher and me, Just aching to get married, and the ‘whole thing is blighted, because mother is going to be desolate when I leave her. I'm going to live less than a hun- dred miles from here, but she’s sick of it. With you married and Jack never home, she acts as if my getting mar- rled was a kind of desertion. She’s always been such an angel that it hurts.” “Why, Marie! Mother doesn’t mind like that.” “Oh, yes, she does.” 4 “Why didn't you tell me?” “You've got your family and your own worries. But that,” said Marle, coming back to the original point, “is why I say that I've learned my lesson. I never shall get that way with my daughter. I shall always say to her— ‘Have your own life and I'l have mine’!” “Do you think I could help mother?” asked Phyllis. “Oh, we'll all do what we can, I sup- pose. Come to see her often and make her come to see us. You can help while I'm away on my wedding trip— that will be the worst time, I suppose. But there’s not much any of us can really do. She’ll just suffer. Unless I give up Christopher. And I simply can’t, Phyllis. I adore Christopher.” “Of course, you do,” Phyllis com- forted her. “Don’t talk that way. There's no reason you should even think of giving him up. But, Marie, why did you say mother and I are just alike?"” “You bury yourself in your children, just as she did. And you see what hap- pens—when you went away, she was sad, but it was bearable. When Jack does what every other fellow in town does on vacations, runs around a lot, she just sits and pines and waits for him to turn up. And, when I start to get married, just because 'm the last, she suffers, instead of being glad that I've managed to land a fellow like Christopher!” “You think I'd like that?” “Oh well, of course, you have Jerry. If father hadn't died it might have been different with mother, He'd have been the big thing in her life, probably. ‘Though, really, Phyllis,” Marie finished, with terrible frankness, “to look at you and Jerry, sometimes, one would just imagine that you are parents first of all and only incidentally married.” * kX M RS. KENT came In just then and Phyllis looked at her mother. they cut off the conversation. sweet, devoted face, the constant straggly letters: “Grandmother says I BY WILL ROGERS. LL I know is just what I read in the papers. Guess you been reading in all the papers about President Coolidge’s appeal to the St. Louis Post-Dispatch to A get them to use their influence with Congress and get Congress to get an- other White i-ouse. One where the President could gev to and far enough away so that Congressmen and Sena- tors couldent come to eat breakfast off him. The house dont necessarily have to be White, but it must be a house. He wants it somewhere in motoring distance of Washington. So all the Congressmen from Main to Oregon have offered sights. They say they are in motoring distance. It sounds to me like a mighty sensible idea and I guess that is just about what will kill it off. Every State will get into an argument and because their State dont get it it will be voted down. Mr. Coolidge makes the statement in there that he has at least been the healthiest President we have ever had. Say he better kinder look up some history.# I dont know much about it, but they tell me that we have had some pretty husky birds in there. That old Andrew Jackson, from what I have heard of him, he was not exactly what you would call a physical wreck. He had to be tough to think up all the things he had done to the Cherokees. Then of course getting down to Presi- dents that I have had some personal knowledge of. Take Taft for instance (or take him for his weight). He never struck me as being what you would call enemic, Then there was Roosevelt. Now Calvin is pretty much of a man and can handle a mean pitchfork in a Picture during campaign year. I would- ent hardly have liked to see Cal put the Gloves on with “Teddy,” in fact I | wouldent even want to see him lay J‘himselt liable to bodily injury by hav- ing gone cn the same Tennis Court with the Col. Course of course if History wasent too big a liar, which it generally is, why old honest Abe Lincoln wasent hardly a bottle fed baby all through life. Even if he dident split those rails, just piling up rails after some- body else has split em is not hardly childs play. So Calvin really took in some territory when he announced him- !zelf the healthiest man that we had ever had. You know I think Calvin was just feeling so good at that time, the elec- tion was just over and his gang had done pretty well, in fact they had prac- tically done extraordinarily well. Course they got a few States that they will hand back to the original owners, but “I'll meet the school problem when I except as the children’s mother, the lousewlfe. And at 29, having been a must,” Phyllis said; “they'll be older then.” The solicitude—she'd never thought of it as Now he says in his appeal, that “The President has the Yacht Mayflower, but going on it dont get you away from sea level, and that what is needed is to get away from sea level, as Washington is practically located at sea level.” Now that cant hardly be blamed on the Yacht Mayflower. He seems to like the Yacht but the fact that it only operates they are liable to keep enough of them mmllnve made the last election worth while, » at sea level is a kind of disappointment to him. Now its awful hard to get a Yacht. (I dont care how much you pay D. C, DECEMBER 23 iy ;4'.,‘, ) a1 foe anything but beautiful. But when her mother sighed and said she didn't really see how she could get along without Marie, Phyllis’ memory jumped guiltily. That had been her own big argument against letting the children g0 _south. Christopher came, in, too. He was vaguely apologetic in his manner to- ward Mrs. Kent. He had brought Marie violets, great single ones, lying loose in the box, for that was the way Marie liked them, and the smell of them filled the living room as Marie put them in a silver bowl and bent over them lingeringly. “You'll stay for dinner, Christopher?” asked Mrs. Kent. “Why,” he sald awkwardly, “Marie and I had planned a little party to- night.” “Oh, were you going out?” Mrs. Kent sighed gently. “I hardly see my little girl these days. And she'll be gone so soon.” She looked very pathetic, and Marie’s face filled with pity. “Oh, Chris, let’s stay here,” she sug- gested. “Of course,” he agreed, his face fall- ing, and Phyllis could guess how far the dinner with Marie’s mother was from the gay little one for two that he had been planning. “Nonsense,” said Phyllis, “run along, both of you. Mother will come home with me, or if she's too tired I'll stay here with her.” So it was settled. Marie and her gallant went off in a beam of joy, and Phyllis, the married and experienced one, dined with her mother and listen- ed to her gentle reminiscences of all their childhoods, her worry about Phyllis, her sweet desolation. It struck her once rather comically that she got her type of conversation by direct in- heritance. If mother only had something to do, Phyllis kept thinking. But it was too late to put a golf-stick into her hands, even though she was not yet 58. It was too late for many things, too late for most occupations, except those which concerned her devotion to her family. They played a quiet game of double solitaire and talked of Phyllis’ children until at 10 o’clock Phyllis telephoned Jerry to call for her. He came promptly, entering the room like a fine breath of wind. “Wgll, mother,” he said, “ready to Rogers Fears It Is Too Good to Get Con- gress’ Action—Suggests Coolidge Is Not the Only Rugged President. THE PROBLEM IS TO GET THE MAYFLOWER AWAY FROM SEA LEVEL. for it) to get really away from sea level. Thats one of the things they have worked on for years is to get a boat!Ws that will leave sea level, and come back without having entirely impaired their usefullness. If you can get one of the “Leaping Tuna” type, thats the nearest you can get to what he is after. Its going to be hard to cop off a good high hill around Washington. For Washington and Jefferson got in ahead of Coolidge or Hoover, If there had Z | theln in a hundred devious ways. After {H 1928—PART T. come home? The house is like a morgue. No kids—no wife—" So he had missed her, thought Phyllis ?heer(uuy, bundling herself up in her urs. 1t was very cold. The windows of the car were frosted, and Phyllis slid down on the seat with her feet on the radiator. “Cold, mother?” asked Jerry. “You know,” Phyllis sald,“I think it's about time you called me Phyllis again. Mother’s a nice word, very nice, but it is occasionally misleading. Some- time some one’s going to take me for your mother.” Jerry laughed, one of his pleasant, shaking laughs. “All right, he sald— “how’s that?"” It was very satisfactory. * Kk Kk K BUT resolves could not keep Phyllls from aching for the children. She missed their presence and missed do- ing, things for them and feared for sweetheart,” the first three weeks, she' went to a few meetings of the clubs she had long since ceased to attend, and found them mildly interesting. She even gave a bridge party, and in the wake of that came_invitations to other parties. But the days were very, very long. “Just as they will be when the children grow up,” said Phyllis grimly. “I may as well find out now what I am going to do with my time. I can't go back and do the things I did when I was a debu- lliante. I 've got to learn to fill the ays.” There was also time to help Marie, now that she saw Marie’s great prob- lem. She spent as much time as she could with her mother and the soft idleness of the older woman seemed al- ways to menace her. It was especially threatening, because Phyllis herself was still unsatisfied. In the six weeks of the children’s absence she had learned a great deal about amusing herself, but that was all. Amusing herself and get- ting into company again were not enough. She still had vacant hours in the day and all the activities were strung loosely on the hours. And then the thought came. “Jerry,” she said one night at dinner, “what would you think if I went to the university?” “What do you want to do that for?"” been any more hills those two babies would have copped em off themselves. Washington was quite a farmer. In- stead of putting a Golf course on his land he put in Indian corn (that he had captured from the Indians). His nineteenth hole was in his own house. Washington was the most ver- satile President we ever had. He was a Farmer, Civile Engineer and Gentleman. He made enough at Civile engineering to indulge in both the other luxuries. And Jefferson sitting up there on his Hill believed in equality for all. But he dident divide up the hill with any poor deserving Democrats. (For Demo- crats were poor in those days as they are today, and they were deserving then as they are today. It just seems like they are the Lords unfortunate people.) Then down at Staunton, in Republican Virginia, Jefferson had an- other hill, and I think that is what give Mr. Coolidge the idea that to live in history you must have plenty of hills. Years ago some fellow in Baltimore left two hundred thousand to do this very thing on, but he left only eighteen months in his will for Congress to ac- cept or reject. Well Congress cant get the roll called in Eighteen months, much less accept or reject anything. ‘Then they have a great high ideal, and they consider it an insult to take money from an individual. “We are not Pau- pers, how dare anybody give us any- thing, we will build our own White ouses.” We can, but it took sixty years to get a new roof on the old one. We had to get Congress in there and threaten to let the roof fall on em be- fore they voted this new one. Then besides $200,000 wouldent hardly be enough to pay for the Senatorial inves- tigation to find out where the man got the money that he gave to the Country. “T always wanted to, but mother sent me to Miss Pomeroy's School instead, and now’'s my chance. I could do some extension work without needing to take examinations.” “What do you want to take?” She looked at him guilelessly. “You're a You know who the best professors are.” He not only knew, but he seemed to have intense prejudices. He took the cntalogue“ she had obtained and pored over it. “Now, Scudder’s just a dunderhead,” said Jerry, “but you really ought to have a few lectures with Stowe in modern history. He's a wonder, ydbu know.” It was a marvelous evening. { course, you may not be interest- ed,” said Jerry, “but if you aré going to take up history you ought to brush up your knowledge of geography, too. There’s a man down there now—Bacon, I think his name is—I've always wished I could hear his lectures on the new map of Europe. You take notes and tell n;g' what he says, will you, sweet- ‘The strange impersonality of a class- room cf extension students was the first thing that. struck Phyllis, the sense of being finally out of the tiny world that surrounded her household. There were the clear, sharp lectures of professors who assumed her mind was fit to follow theirs, the finding out that it wasn’t and trying to sharpen it to make it adequate. There were mornings when Phyllis was hardly conscious of her own name. She was in the midst of world struggles, determining the boundaries of new countries. Then the day would be over—such part of it as she dared to take from her mother—and she would go home to talk about it with Jerry, and much of what had been obscure came clear to her. Occasionally she could tell Jerry something he did not know, and that was far from unpleasant. * k kX THE weeks flew by and the Spring came—March soggily and then April and finally early May, when the children were coming home. 3 It was exactly seven days before the children were to arrive when Jerry came home one night rather nervous, eyeing his wife as if he had news on his mind which hothered him. \'Sweetheart,” he said, for it was no longer “mother,” “I've got to go West next week.” “Oh, Jerry, not before the children come?” “I must. They're going to let me handle the Bergamot case.” “Jerry! They've always had special counsel on cases like that.” She knew what he was talking about now. “That’s the reason I can't hesitate. It means a month out there perhaps, but it's got to be done.” “A month, Jerry! That's a perfect shame.” “Yes, but if I put it over my reputa- tion is made. I wish you could come with me, Phyllis.” ’ “I wish I could. But, of course, with the children just coming home it's out of the question.” “Oh, of course,” he said rather guilt- ily, “but I am going to miss you. ‘We've had such a nice time this Win- ter, even without the children. It hasn’t been nearly so bad as I'd feared, having them away.” “No,” she agreed thoughtfully. Suddenly Jerry brightened. “By the way,” he said, fishing in his “Just after this thing came ugh today and I was feeling pretty good I went into Ec{)ullng's to have my watch crystal fixed, and I saw some- thing there that I thought looked like you. So I blew myself to it.” He pulled a flat box out of his pocket and handed it to her. Phyllis opened it excitedly. “Jerry!” she cried, lifting the dia- mond pin from its velvet cushion, “are you joking!” “Joking!” said Jerry. “Haven't I the right to give a present to my wife once, in a while?” Phyllis looked at him gravely, the diamond sparkling in her open hand. The present somehow reinstated her as an individual, made her personally dear again. "“‘Afler all,” she said, “the children will have Ella. She is wonderful. They got along without us for four months. ‘They ought to be able to get along for another mecnth when it is so important. There'll be your mother—and mine—to take charge here. We will be back for the wedding.” If he got it working for a rich man, why it was tainted. Now I want to see us get this new ‘White House. The one in Washington is nothing but a Zoo. Tourists have wore their ears peeping those iron bars to see if they cant get a peep at the President. place out in the country where if sees anybody coming it will only be a Neighbor and not an office seeker. I got a place out in Oklahoma, Oo-la-gah, Oklahoma, near enough to Claremore so he would have all the advantages of ‘ashing . Now I would offer him that place of mine. too near in to Washin Washington to be acceptable. themdatgllaul;th:naf'zrlhl very needed thing, an a very human document unn‘m 1t (Copyright, 1928.) “You don’'t mean you think youll come along!” asked Jerry. “I hate to leave my work at the uni- versity. But, after all, next Winter I'll| g0 on with that.” Jerry looked like a small boy on the edge of adventure. “You're sure you wafit to come? You're sure you won't be too lonely for the children?” She sighed. It wasn’t easy. It was never going to be easy. “I'm learning to do it” she said, “an- other month ought to complete the course. , besides being the chil- dren’s mother, I happen to be my hus- band's wife " “You're a wonderful human being,” Jerry told her, “that's what you are!” Mrs. Morgan, Jerry’s mother, stood on graduate. You tell me. | have worked. Almost overworked, you might say. Now, just when we are tak- ing the children home, Jerry's been given a big casc to try out West and | Phyllis is going with him. I'm to take the children home and let the other | grandmother take charge.” Mr. Morgan mused. He looked some- what tired, as did his wife. “That’s fine;” he said at last. “Pine. I'm glad of it. But it's just as well we didn’c tell them about the measles and Cherry’s sprained ankle and Bob's in- fected finger. Just as well.” “Just as well,” echoed Mrs. Morgan. “But my Christmas present to Phyllis is such a success that nothing can spoil it now.” (Copyright, 1928.) H Christmas in District When Nation Was Young (Continued from Fourth Page.) ment which aderned the great charac- ter whose name it bears, be forever | held in veneration. Here and through- out our country may simple manners, pure morals and true religion flourish.” The First Lady added: “It is a beau- tiful spot, capable of improvement, and the more I view it the more I am de- lighted with it.” Center Market had never seen such | a bustle of business. On Wednesday, | the day before Christmas, carts and wagons were so thick as to block the | whole market space. A social correspondence school of- fersd to teach “the fast hand | for records, deeds, ledgers and con- | tracts,” and the waving running hand, | beautiful, well calculated, it is said, for | professional writing. The irregular | hand, adapted for females, for epis- tolary writing. ‘The secretary and Italian hands, together with swinging English capitals with the arm swing. “Many persons (if it may be said) of all ages, have within four years learned one of these hands in 12 lessons of one | hour each. “Ladies and gentlemen waited on in their own homes. “Boys are not confined entirely to the number of lessons taught, but the hand is taught them for $5. Refer- ences to the most respectable families in Washington.” Lewis Carusi, dancemaster, announced a New Year ball on the first day of 1829. It was a cotillion party to be held in the salon of the Assembly Hall. Com- mencement time was set for 7 o'clock. Admittance to gentlemen, $1. Ladies free. Damoselles could receive invi- tations by sending their card and resi- dence to the hall. P 'HE editor of the National Intel- ligencer swore in an editorial that at the request of his neighbor, Walter Clarke, whose advertisement on water- proof boots appeared in another column, he had immersed one of his boots in a tub of water in his office, that he had left his foot and boot in the water for 20 hours, that when taken out the inside was free from moisture or damp, so much so that a piece of paper at the bottom of the boot had remained dry during the whole performance. By “divine permission” the Rev. Mr. Danforth preached a sermon Christmas day at Mr. Brashear’s academy. On Christmas day James Madison voiced his famous interpretation of the Constitution, which was broadcast over the land by public prints. Franklin and Armfield of Alexandria offered to buy 100 slaves between the ages of & and 25. *xen TKOMAS QUIRK, wig maker of New York, announced in public prints that he would be glad to receive calls | from ladies and gentlemen wearing ornamental finery and wishing to have the latest inventions in natural heads of hair. He says of himself: “Some years have elapsed since T be- gan to invent these decorative articles which add so much to the embellish- ment of female loveliness and beauty: the decided preference I have receiyed from the most fases:nable circles stin- ulates meé to continued exertion. “The superiority of my ‘crops’ are too well known to need encomiums. They are highly recommended for securing good health and prolonging life. “Ladies feeling disposed to honor me with calls, I flatter myself, should ap- ply at Brown's Indian Queen Hotel, be- tween the hours of 10 and 2.” The National Hotel, with a capacity of 260 persons, was about to be opened to the public. It had 80 single, 50 ible bed chambers, 12 parlor and drawing rooms and a number of private apart- ments, all decorated in lavish style. As the house was so extensive and costly in its upkeep, the proprietors advertis- ed that in order to encourage they would reduce the daily price of board at public table to $1-a day to all persons who stopped at the hotel longer than a week and occupy a room | the veranda of the house at Miami with used her face. “Look here, Robert,” she called to her re, husband, “that idea of mine seems to! ) AT with more than one L. “Stabling,” they go on, “is extensive and the charge for livery modest. Liquors are the best and wines are sold from $1 to $3.50 a bottle.”