Evening Star Newspaper, January 27, 1929, Page 88

! 6 THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C. JA NUARY. 27,.1920—PART T.° DOT AND W Some of the Trials of Life May Be Magnified. life, of course, that Will and I |away from, and houses and babies that feel different about. The radlo, | it isn't easy to leave. So in actual for instance. I like the radio | practice we do our shopping in Mont- very much of an evening when | rose and go to movies in the Montrose I've been out with some of the girls in [ Arcade, and have all kinds of fun the afternoon. But on the evenings | among ourselves, and keep Chicago after I've been in all day with the | mainly for conversation. babies and have thought of 1oads of | And here we were, after months and THERE are a few little trifles in | with businesses they can't very well get + SIEPOSOC] Chicago. So we decided to go camping _ gives all of us girls a considerable ad- things I want to talk over with Will, the radio doesn't look so good to me. Will will dash up from supper the second he’s through, and tune in on KYW. Probably he'll get a whistler, doing “Listen to the Mocking Bird.” And, just because it's coming a little clearer than usual, Will will sit there with a positively reverential look on his face and never hear a word I say. “And I think Rosemary would have done better to let it drop right there,” T'll be saying. Will's eye will happen to light on me as though by the merest accident, He'll smile at me dreamt ear that reception!” he’ll exclaim. “Say, wouldn't you actually think that ‘was a bird? It's very hard. After having waited all day long for a little decent conver- sation, who wants to sit and listen to a bird? In the main, though, Will and I are extremely congenial, and we can't help feeling a little superior to couples we know who aren’t. Getting along the way we do with our budget, for in- stance, we naturally glance at each other with a little satisfaction when Roger and Dulcie get to discussing money. Dulcie is very free with money. When she paid six dollars once for a pair of chiffon stockings Roger nearly went into a decline. “Six dolla 'd keep saying. “Six dollars is a year’s interest on a hundred If you had put that six dollars dollars, out at interest and kept reinvesting it, inHlZ years, it would have doubled it- “¥es,” Dulcie answered, “and in 24 4t would have been and in 36 years—oh, if you could only live to be | @ hundred or so, I suppose you might | turn six dollars into enough to buy yourself a handsome coffin. No, thank you. T'll take my six in stockings— now!” And the Mertons about bringing up | their children. “I do the very best I can,” Rosie said once, with great feeling, “to stimulate the children’s minds. But I think it's going too far for Howard to pick a Sunday when they've all got colds and give them a child's intelligence test he'd found in a magazine. And then worry because Junior only rated a hundred and five, when he should have been a hundred and seven!” ** ‘Well, Howard Merton,” I just told him, ‘if a Soviet government were to give you an intelligence test on a day when you'd got one of your bad colds, they'd take one look at your rating, then give you gas.” Oh, Will and I had plenty of occa- sions to pat ourselves on the back about | how congenial we were. ‘When Mrs. Long talked about its being a good thing for husbands and wives to take vacations away from each other Will and I just laughed, ‘We hadn't had the least bit of trou- ble planning our vacation, though it was the first real one we had had since the babies were born. The year before we had bought an electric washing ma- chine for a vacation, and the year be- fore that we had finished off an extra Troom in the attic. But this year we were feeling quite flush, Will having sold the factory land to Sam Porter. Mother said she'd keep the twins, if we wanted to go some- where for a couple of weeks. * ok % LOTS of couples would have had trouble in agreeing on where to go, bnt Will and I didn't have a bit. Will S to go camping at Lake Win- for the first week and to Chicago the second. Being only a few hours from Chicago vantage. When we meet a girl from any of the big cities, if she tries to be the least bit patronizing, we can always vears of talking about it, actually going. And to stay there a week! | I had made up my mind to be an awfully good sport about the camping part of the vacation,.and entered heartily intothe preparations. l ‘The north end of the.lake is very | | wild and we stopped at Dawson to get |our provisions. | “You have the housekeeping on your hands all the time when you're home,” Will said. “And this is a vacation. | Camp cooking is a man’s job." ‘That was awfully sweet of Will, and | it did seem wonderful, after having got three meals a day for years, to see Will |50 right ahead with our first meal. | He built a fire and made coffee and | fried bacon and potatoes and opened a can of beans. After our long ride the smell of that coffee and bacon is something I'll never forget. “There, Mrs. Horton, draw up your chair to that!” said Will, beaming from ear to ear. We ate and drank as though we'd never had a meal before. Some of the bacon was a little bit scorched, and | Will had bought tin cups, and the coffee | made them so hot that mine burned my lips when I tried to drink. But | T had made up my mind to be a good |sport, so I never even mentioned it. | When we had eaten all we could | T said, “I'll wash the dishes while you | get the tent up.” “Oh, we don't need to wash any dishes,” said Will. “Just run the knives and forks up and down in the sand. That cleans them better than any scouring powder ever made.” “What about the plates and cups, though? And the frying pan?” | “Well, you might rinse them off in ! the lake, if you want to,” said Will. “No need to for the frying pan, though. ‘We'll be cooking bacon in it again.” As every woman knows, you can't rinse off plates all bacon-grease in cold water, so I heated some water in the coffee pot—Will hadn’t brought any- thing to cook with, except a coffee pot and frying pan—and washed up. By the time I was through, Will had the tent up. Then we walked up to the top of Hooker's Hill to see the view, and came back to camp and had a swim. * ok K ¥ WILL got supper and, when it was ready he said again, “There, Mrs. Horton, draw up your chair to that.” We had coffee and fried potatoes and bacon and beans again; but the climb and the swim had made-me so hungry that I didn't mind two meals just alike. Then I did the dishes— though Will protested that it was a lot of tripe, washing dishes when you were camping—while he smudged out the tent, so we wouldn’t have any mosquitoes. One or two managed to stay in, of course, as they always do, and. they kept me awake for quite a while. Or maybe it was having drunk so much -coffee. Whichever it was, it didn't bother Will a bit. He was asleep before I'd got undressed. It had really been a most lovely day. But the second didn't begin so_well. For the first thing, I found that I had got a little blister on my heel. I'd worn my regular shoes, and they're so low-heeled and comfortable over silk stockings that it never occurred to me they might be just a little too snug over the heavy sports hose. “Oh, well,” I thought, “we'll be out fishing all day, and I can just sit still in the boat.” But the next blow came when Will declared that it was too clear to fish. “No use trying to fish before twilight,” he said. “I'll tell you what,” he suggested, “we’ll take a good long hike!” My heait sgik down to the wvery blister of my heel, but I said nothing. T had made up my mind to be a good sport, and it wasn't a very big blister. So we had breakfast—coffee and bacon and fried potatoes—and started out. Before I'd gone thé first mile my put her in her place very quickly. 1If she says, “I don't suppose you get much in Montrose in the way of the- ater,” we always say, “Well, of course, we are so near Chicago—we can see al- most anything there.” And, if she tries to insinuate that our stores aren't as big or as good as those in her own city, we can always say, “But, you ses, we're so near Chicago it’s easy to get over Spring, and Fall, . for our really important shopping.”” Oh, Chicago is a great help to us. ‘We can do almost anything with it— except to get there very often. In fact. ‘we use the idea of going there in our conversation so much that we kind of fool ourselves. We've all got ourselves to believing that we really do run over every little while; see 21l the new plays; do our shopping there, and so forth. But, when you get right down to bare, hard facts, there don’t any of us get over there once in three years. It's not as easy as it sounds. Of course, it is only a few hours away; but, even so, it costs money to get there. And, unless you feel you can shop and g0 to shows, what's ot all? - Pesides, we've all (ot‘hugblpga the -point of going | Iheel had begun to hurt. As anybody knows, a blister is much worse if you feel you musn't speak about it. I knew that if I mentioned it to Will it would irritate him—blisters on anybody else’s heel always do. He thinks iis sheer perversity not to have worn the right kind of shoes in the first place. So I gritted my teeth and plodded on, de- termined to be a good sport and enjoy myself if it killed mie. For a while I was able to keep my spirits by thinking about Chicago. That would make up for everything. And the camping would be only a week at most. This buoyed me up for the first five miles, but that was all. Every step was becoming torture, and the week ahead stretched out longer and longer. I began to doubt whether I Last out a week! By the eighth mile I was only praying that I'd live . | could ever last it out. By Fannie | lighting the fagots. I just turned loose and limped. And Will never even noticed that I was limping! He was so_excited over being off camping that I doubt he'd | have noticed the difference if I'd start- ed going on all fours, The last mile back was something beyond_description; but, some way or other, I lived through it. “Now for dinner!” Will said ,en- thusiastically. “What shall we have?” I asked. Will looked puzzled “Why, bacon,” he said, as though that were the only food known to man. And it shortly appeared that that was the only food we had with us. He scemed amazed that it should have |occurred to me that he might have brought anything else. “Bacon's what you always cat camp- ing,” he said. ““Bacon and fried po- tatoes and beans and coffee, except for breakfast, then you leave’ off the eans.” “But don’t you think it ‘will make us ill or something?” I asked. “Eating that three times a day?” “Oh. no,” said Will, “not when you're tramping all day!” “Tramping all day!” I felt as though I could never take another step as long as I lived. Sitting there, watch- ing Will build a fire, it suddenly dawned on me that I had never cared a great deal for camping at best. And here I was, under the very. worst circumstances possible, in for a week of it. And with the added burden of | having to be a good sport. “There, Mrs. Horton,” said Will, “draw up your chair to that!" | ok IT began to drizzle in the afternoon, but we started out fishing just the same. However, we didn't stay long. Will hadn’t got his line in before the drizzle had turned into a driving rain th:t 1even he admitted you couldn’t stay out in, ‘We managed to half-cook supper— Kilbourne were mosquitoes in the tent. Take it altogether, even his enthusiasm had receded by morning. The lake was bleak and gray. Will had brought some wood into the tent, but, thanks to the leak, that had got pretty damp, too, and it took an hour to get up enough fire to cook break- fast. And it was so chilly that we both got as close as we could to the sputtery little blaze. All day long I huddled under the tent and shivered. Will went swimming in the rain, but it was raining in sheets and blowing such a cold wind that even he dropped the idea of taking another walk. We had only a blanket aplece. We were both chilly all night. By morning it was still raining and blowing, and we realized that August's cold spell had arrived ahead of sched- ule. 3 Oh, but I was glad I hadn't men- tioned the blister on my heel, or the fact that 1 didn't care much about camping! The chillier the wind blew and the darker and’ more lasting-look- ing the clouds were, the more hopeful I became. I insisted that the rain probably’ woyldn't last more than two or three days at most, and that it seemed & terrible shame to_think of cutting our camping short. I knew it was perfectly safe to do this. No human being could possibly want to keep on C“.';fipmg in such weather. Not even About noon I reluctantly allowed myself to be persuaded that we'd bet~ ter break camp and head for Montrose. It's a wonderful feeling to know that you have done your duty, and yet it hasn’t cost you anything. I'd been a good sport and never once complained, and yet here we were, heading for Chicago, the camping all over and done with. I'd had our city things packed and ready, so we drove in from camp at 5 o'clock and caught the- 7:10. Chicago union station at quarter past 11 that night. It was still raining, but | bacon, fried potatoes and beans, of the streets were ablaze with lights. Will THEY KNEW ALL THE REALLY INTERESTING PLACES TO GO AND HOW TO GO TO THEM WITHOUT SPENDING A LOT OF MONEY. THEY TOOK US TO A RUSSIAN TEAROOM FOR LUNCH, WHERE . . . ALL THE WAITRESSES "WERE REFUGEES, course—over a sputtering fire under the flap of the tent. Will kept insisting that the rain was part of the fun, and singing that crazy old song, “It ain't | gonna rain very hard anyhow—Hallelu- jah!” But it did rain very hard and very harder. The tent sprung a leak in the night, and dripped right down on our faces. Pretty soon Will woke up. The blan- kets began to get wet. Besides, there BY WILL ROGERS. ELL, all I know is just what I read in the papers, and what I gaze out at over the footlights, while trying to act a fool for the Natives. You know a fellow that was out front the other night come back in my dress- ing room and we had a fine visit. And funny thing it was the Arst time I had ever met him personally. I taought I had personally run onto about all the men that have Leen mixed up in our National affairs. But here was one that I honestly believe had r:ore lnfluenw on American affairs in our generati than any other ten men, and that would include Presidents, too. It was Colonel House. Just think the part that man played during the entire eight years of the Wilson Atministration. We had all formed all kinds of opinions and ideas about what kind of a fellow he vias, and what manner of man to get this hold on the brain of a man like Wil- son. Well from the minute you meet him you know he’s got something. He is quiet spoken, but you know he “savies” what he is about. | Funny thing about that fellow. You know he and Wilson kinder had a fall- ing out. The President kinder jarred loose from him. Nobody knows what all the advice that House give to Mr. Wilson was. Just think of a quiet little fellow from away off' down in those cedar breaks of that wild old State of Texas, holding no office, having no official capacity, yet really having a part in the destinies of perhaps not only our 110 | million, but millions in other Countries. ! That little fellow knows more about the war than any man in America. Well Sir, do you know I introduced him to the audience, for here was a fellow who I knew that nine tenths of them after all the reading about him had never seen him, and he got one of the biggest receptions I have heard in the Theatre. Pershings was the biggest. Colonel House has told in his books lots of things that happened, but Lord, what he knows that he never has told. i Well, the Automobile Guys all sobered 1 up and got out of town, or maybe they i dident, but they got out anyhow. I have given the whole industry one year uulcotmkmclmg.. If I could have limped, it would have hel a little, but I was afraid that if I ped Will would notice it and ask what was the matter. By the ninth mile I didn’t care if he did. You can't expect & , martyr to be & good sport while they're to put a door knob, or fastener on a car that everybody in the car don’t have to take turns after you get: started slam- ming it to see if its fastened. If you had to slam House doors like you do auto doors to keep 'em .shut, people wouldn't use e They would get used had wired ahead for a room at one of the very best hotels. One usually stays with relatives in Chicago, and they always seem to live in the suburbs. But not this time. Our hotel was right downtown. Noth- ing in the world can ever seem more luxurious to me than our room, after camp. The rug was so soft your steps were perfectly silent. There were twin beds, with a reading-light over each one. There was a writing desk, with all kinds of stationery, and a beautiful lamp. There were both a chiffonier and a dressing table, and electric can- dles on each side of both. Rogers Introduces Col.VHouse. and Won- ders How Much He Really Knows About the World War. 1 get tirgy slamming Fhqs door. i THEY'D CLIMB IN AND to climing in through the windows: Thats why you see so many chouffers; there is very few families have members stronz enough to open an automobile joor., You first turn tHe handle, then you start trying to push it with your hand. You soon find that dont work, then you try and get your khee against it and sce if Never shall I forge! pulling into the |° P UL RO e e e t wont push it open. The door to our private bath stopd open. and the bell-boy put on the lights in there, too, a white blaze of them. There was a great, thick white bath- mat, and as many towels as we have in a week’s wash at home. ‘The joy of a long, lazy, warm bath, after those damp, chilly days in a tent! Long after Will was asleep, I trailed around the room, sitting down in front of the dressing table, switching on the lights and trying my hair one way and another, feeling like Du Barry, fi‘( 'somt.body. Oh, but this was the e! 1 was nearly dead from sleepiness, but T lay for a few minutes, propping my eyes open, looking over a new magagine, just to use my little reading- lamp. The luxurious feeling that it didn't make any difference what time I went to sleep! I finally dozed off, still trying to make up my mind whether to have breakfast in our room at a little table drawn up by the window, or to dress and go into the dining room, where you'd see other people . . . “For the love of Mike!” I woke up with a start. Will was looking at his watch. I blinked at him. m"lu‘n quarter past 8!” he sald accus- 'yslretclud. sat up # bed. 'd thought I'd sleep till 9,” T said. ‘Sleep till 9!” Will exclaimed, and, from his tone, you'd think I'd said I thought I'd set the hotel on fire. “What | do you want to sleep till 9 for? “Because I'm staying at a hotel.” Will looked baffled. “Living in as quiet a place as Mont- rose.”” he said, “I can't see why any- body’s got to go to a Chicago hotel to get their sleep!” 1 rose, without trying to explain. Will had already had his bath and was be- the . program for today?” he asked briskly. “How would you like to go to the theater tonight?” I asked. “Pine! And what about the day?” “We might go shopping this after- noon. ‘Will looked sort of dublous. “What about the morning?"” “Well. I thought I'd get my hair washed.” Will looked even more puzzled than he had at my wanting to sleep till 9. “Can’t you wash your hair at home?” he asked. I MET Will for lunch. We went to a tea-room on Michigan aveaue that Louise Curley had told me about. I thought it was a perfectly won- derful tearoom, but Will complained that he didn't get enough to eat. “Mercy, WilL" I said, impatiently, “you can eat at home! You don't go clear to Chicago for food!” “Maybé not,” said Will, “but when I go into a restaurant that's what I'm going for.” He didn't seem exaetly to enjoy shopping that afternoon either. Of course, I paid no attention to him, but a person along who isn't in sympathy can certainly take the edge off shop- | ping. Goodness knows I hadn't any inten- tion of just dragging Will around shop- ping all our time in Chicago. I had | thought we would try to compromise and do things that both of us enjoyed. But it gave me a terrible shock to find | out what queer sorts of things Will did enjoy. He wanted to go to the Fleld Museum, for instance! Of course, I wouldn't want to say anything against natural history mu- seums, They're very interesting and instructive for people who like them and have time for them. If I lived | right in Chicago all the time, I'd go to the museum often. But, with only 10 days out of 5 years, it did seem kind of crazy to waste the best part of a day among skeletons and birds’ nests. I actually believe Will eventually would have ruined the whole trip for me if we hadn’t met the'Janssens. Lorraine Wanssen and her mother used to have |a cottage at Winneposocket, and' I'd known them for years. We just ran into each other at the theater. From the moment ‘we met them the vacation began to be the sort of thing I'd dreamed of. The Janssens were real women of the world. While Will went to see the things that interested him. I went shopping with the Jans- sens. They were two women who knew how to shop! Why, we could be in the stores all day long and never spend a cent. They knew all the really interesting places to go, and how to go to them without spending a lot of money. They took us to a Russian tearoom for lunch, * Kk X ¥ | wrong things. ILL TAKE A VACATION gees. They showed us how to see all the swanky restaurants and dance places very inexpensively by going at tea time and just ordering tea and cianamon toast. ‘They took us to an art exhibit that everybody who was anybody in Chicago was going to. It was wonderful and sophisticated. Why, if you s&w those pictures anywhere but in an art gallery | you'd ‘never have guessed they were pictures. It wac an opportunity such as might | not come twice in a lifetime. Without somehbody like the Janssens to show us the ropes we might have floundered around, spending our money on all the But this way it was an education, And the fun that it was getting it! But I hadn't realized that Will wasn't cnjoying it. So-the -blow came upon me completely unprepared. * K % x WE ‘were rld_\ng up in the elevator at. the hotel when we'd been there nearly a week, reading our mail. I had a letter from mother that the twins were fine and everything was going well. Will had a letter from Howard Merton and was reading that. I tucked my letter in my bag and began to tell Will about the most exciting thing yet | that was going to happen. The Jans- sens were going to give a bridge lunch- | eon for me Labor day! And such a luncheon! It would be in the dining room of a very smart hotel near their apartment. Lorraine was having all up-to-the-minute Chicago girls. The party was in my honor. My, but I was glad I had my new black satin dress to wear and knew how to play a good game of bridge! I was talking about it to Will, and I was so excited that I didn’t realize that he wasn't listening to me. “I wonder,” I was speculating, “if I wouldn't be justified in getting a pair of those beige patent leather two-strap slippers. They are all I need to make my costume absolutely perfect.” I looked doubtfully at W to see whether he felt that this would be fdi" too far. He had a queer, absent look. “Say, listen to this,” he said as he unlocked our room door. “I got a letter here from Mert, and he says it's warmed up again, and he and Prank Kirsted are going to take a few days off and -0 camping over Labor day.” “Yes?” I said absently. “It wouldn't be an extravagance in the long run, because I could wear them for dress all Winter, and then they'd be stunning with my tan suit in the Spring.” “And they want us to come back and g0 with them,” Will went on. “They're specially treated,” I said, “so they won't crack.” “If it isn't luck,” said Will, “that we left everything all packed up—the :’!l’:nkeu and cooking tools and every- ng.” “I won't spend the money, though,” I sald, “if you feel that it would be extravagant.” “Extravagant!” Will exclaimed. “Why, it wouldn't cost us hardly anything! We'd even go up in Prank’s car.” I came to earth suddenly, as you do when a chair's been pulled out from under you just as you're sitting down. As suddenly and wit'. as great a feeling of outrage. “Will Horton,” I gasped. “do you mean to tell me that you want to leave Chicago—now? " “Wel-11," sald WIill doubtfully, as though a greal concessiol might wait till morning, as long as we've got tickets for a show tonight. “Leave Chicago in the morning! cried. “But the party! The luncheon the Janssens are giving for me!” “Oh, you can get out.of that.” “Get out of it!” I could feel my voice getting higher and thinner.. “I don't want to get out of it!" “You mean you want to pass up a chance to go camping and stick here ‘n Chicago just for a party three days fT “Not just for the party,” I wailed. “I'd want to stay if there weren't any party at-all!” Will stared at me, horrified. And I was as horrified as he was. “Leave Chicago to go and sleep in a leaky tent and eat burnt bacon and fried potatoes three times a day! With three men who don't want to do any- gmg_ but tramp millions of miles and “Pass up camping!” said Will. “To stay in this city! With three women who don't want to do a thing but| trail from one store to another, and eat whipped cream in tea rooms!" * ok K K Right down to where the tea was made in a samovar, ‘and where all the waitresses were refu- OUT OF THE WINDOWS, There has been more people mashed their fingers in an Automobile door being slammed by somebody else in the party, than there was minor casualties in the war. If all mashed fingers from slam- ming, automobiles doors” was laid end to-end it would build a corduroy road of fingers across the Continent. If Raskob W.ll.l‘zfl. his Elll.d o that and off that | with the next batter. He told Mr. AND there we were! bare facts, without any pretty veils of pretending and being good sports. Democratic deficiency he will be doing a greater good than argueing with those Republicans. You can’t get nowhere argueing witha Republican. They got the most votes. Its just like trying to win an argument with the Boss. Or a clerk argueing with a customer. Don't you remember the old Slogan, that was originated by John Smith when he first started trading with the Indians, “The customer is al- ways right, but give nothing back.”! That's the way it should be with the Democrats. “The Republicans are al- ways right.” Of course we all know they are not, in fact I doubt if they ever was right, but'as long as they got the most votes why how you going to argue with em? Last spring traveling down in Ala- bama, I had a chance to go by the school of Tuskeegee, founded by Booker T. Washington. Had a great time there. Heard 1,800 trained voices sing Negro Spirituals, and how. Why its the best run place you ever saw. Won- derful buildings, beautiful grounds, why its bigger than Harvard, and got a bet- ter football team. Well, there is a great fellow runs it, Dr. Moton. He has had it ever since Booker T. died, and he was Washingtons right hand man before that. A i Well, he is a great fellow, he was in} to see-me here yesterday, he had just come by Washington and had a_long chat with President Coolidge, and one Coolidge a story and he said The Presi- jto in the panic of terror. WE MANAGED TO HALF-COOK §! FIRE UNDER A FLAP OF THE UPPER . . . OVER A SPUTTERING TENT. WILL KEPT INSISTING THAT THE RAIN WAS PART OF THE FUN. healthy, outdoor fun,” said Will. “I do,” said I; “but I always thought you wanted to see something of life outside Montrose.” “I do,” said Will; “but—" But! There was no getting beyond the “but” for either of us. The more we talked, the more excited and the further apart we got. Why, before we finished we were arguing about things that had happened before we were en- gaged. It was as near a real quarrel as really nice married people ever get. It was Will who finally suggested a compromise. “Well,” he said at last, “why don’t I go back and go camping with the boys, and you stay here the three days and have a good time with the Janssens?” It was a perfectly sensible solution, and we both knew it. There wasn't a reason in the world against it. We stopped arguing and began planning how we could manage. It would be easy as anything. In the planning we got perfectly amiable again. And, by the time Will caught the train for Montrose, everything between us was as smooth and sweet as maple mousse. On the surface. Underneath, I couldn't help feeling a little hurt at Will. I didn't want Wil to stay in Chicago. if he didn't want to—there's no fun for any one in that— but I wanted him to want to. And I could see that he felt a little hurt at me. He knew that he'd really be bet- ter off camping with just Howard and Frank, who wouid never get blisters on their heels. But he wanted me to want to go. If it hadn’t been for this little feel- ing of hurt, my three days in Chicago would have been heavenly. But, away down underneath, taking the edge off all the pleasure, was that sore feeling that Will had been perfectly willing to spdil it all for me. If it hadn't been for the luncheon in my honor, that feeling of hurt actually might have ruined things for me. But the luncheon was so im- portant that I had to put everything else aside to get ready for it. Labor day morning I had a finger wave and a.manicure. I allowed my- self loads of time to dress, and. when I was ready to start, I studied myself in the long mirror in my room. and, from the top of my wave to the soles of my beige patent leathers. there wasn't one single snappy detail lacking. I had allowed myself so much extra time for dressing that, when I got down to the hotel mezzanine, I was 20 minutes ahead of time. I didn't want to Kkill the effect by arriving early, so I bought a newspaper and sat down to_wait. I glanced at the front page and then turned to the ads. Leaving for home that night. of course, the ads weren't really anything to me any more: but you know how it is, you al- ways like to read them. I was study- ing the prices in a fur coat sale, when in a column beside it. a familiar name leaped out and caught my attention. It was Lake Winneposocket. 1"e(‘?nasunlly, I began to read the little Suddenly everything in the world still. In icy horror. “Three young men who have been camping for a few days on Stony Point, Lake Winneposocket, were drowned late yesterday afternoon when their boat capsized off the point.” Stony Point! Where the boys had been going to camp. “The tragedy was witnessed by Sam Brado, a farmer, who had seen them Wwho was watching their struggle with tl midnight none of the bodies had camp they left disclosed nothing by Which they could be identified, except Brado described them as being between 25 and 30 years of age. Two of them he remembered having seen on the lake ers on the lake, he sald, came either from Wayne County or from Chicago. The station agent at Dawson said that several parties of campers had come from Chicago lately, but no party of "hfe-;h"h“ Ee I‘:méld rei;lll.h : “The work of dragging the lake for the bodles will commence today.” * X % x DON'T know how long I sat there, numb to everything. Then I came I -stared around the mezzanine, people sitting, walking about as though nothing had happened. I couldn't do anything here, in this queer place, among all queer strangers. I must get back to Mont- rose. Right away. I dashed through the lobby, out onto dent laughed like everything at it, he and Mr. Coolidge was talking about how the colored folks had kinder stayed out of the last election, that is as & ;J race. \ { A White man bought a pig from old | Jim Davis, took him home and the old } “Shoat” got out ;.{: went back home. Another White come along and bought the pig, was hauling him home when he met the buyer, who saw an him, asked about im and found they had both bought | back to have it out | ;Yes sir Gentlemans you both bought Him, but do you know I has always . h that you white fellows is so. mi smarter than \ul colored folks, now you all cught to be smart enough to go off and settle that ;nnturdln;‘onl Ynumlvfs wlthout' com- ng and axing a poor old ignerant man to help you out.” . And thats the wa Dr. Moton told Mr. Coolidge they did during the late Republican uprising. the crowded street. Some people were just getting out of a taxi, and I jumped in, “The Union Station,” I said to the driver. “I've just 12 minutes to catch & 1:10 train. Can you make it?" He shrugged shoulders and started off, dodging in and out among the cars, cutting corners wherever he could. There was a terrible time while he had to wait for a traffic signal. One-eight-and-a-half when we reached the station. As though there weren't another soul in all that crowded place, I ran across the great concourse, not little, hurrying, woman steps. I ran the way I used to at home, when Will and I played in the same kid games ll!nd lthe leader shouted, “Run, Sheep, un!” The light over the train gate was already out, the gate was being shut; but the man saw me coming and held it open an extra second for me. Let, the White Folks fight it out among themselves. R MEEIVES: (Copyriaht, 1929 E ‘When we were rolling along my heart had slowed down so that it didn't shake e all over, I remembered all the things ) “I always thought you liked good, | put out earlier in the afternoon, and ' the storm when the boat capsized. Un- | ed ashore, and a search of the | for a Masonic emblem on one coat. | in previous years. Most of the camp- | I should have done. I hadn't any ticket. | I hadn’t paid my hotel bill. T hadn't | my baggage. If I'd had time, I might | have telephoned Montrose, long dis- | tance. ~What good waould that have done, though? Whom ould I have | telephoned? The boys hadn't planned | to come home till late tonight. Who | would have known where they were? | And where were they? The tears | streaming down my face, I read, over | and over, the paper I had clung to. At first, I tried desperately to think that it might be some other three campers. Lake Winreposocket is a buge lake: there must have been lots of other campers. But three young men! And Stony Point! Will had said they would camp on Stony Point. A Masonic em- blem on one coat, Will's lodge pin. | "It must have been his old gray coat | There would be his pipe in the pocket, ‘and the two buttons off. I must sew on those buttons. He'd kidded me about | them, and it had got to be a joke, so 1 | hadn't done it. I must sew them on. They were in the little box on our bu- | reau. I must sew them on. I kept thinking about those buttons—I had to keep thinking about them. If I hadn't I would have had to think of never St a bution on a coat for Wil I must sew—and suddenly, I couldn't think of this any longer. I shrank back and put my hands over my eves. Trying to shut out the thought. Life without Will Despair isn't always black. as they say. It isn't any color. It isn't any- thing. Just emptiness. ‘Weuld I go on doing things in that emptiness? Putting the babics to bed? When they had finished their supper they always ran over to the window in their sleeping suits. and 1 would sit down on one of their little chairs and we would watch out the windows, down Water street, for daddy to come home. What would I do now? How cculd I put them to bed now? How could I tell them daddy wasn't ever coming any more? How could anything go on. if Will never came home again? Could I go on, setting the table for a Summer breakfast on the porch. and not put any c! there for Will> When my werk was over what would I do, what would I wait for if I was never to hear his whistle again? Our big chair in front of the fireplace. with the little clock ticking in the stillness of a Win- ter evening. the little clock that Will and I had wound and set to ticking to- gether on our first night in our own home . nd Will not there ... never . EEEE PRESSED my hands tighter over my eyes, but I couldn't shut it out. That awful emptiness of despair. The conductor called “Montrose.” I had to | take my hands away, and in the sudden blinking light I felt my way down the | train steps. There on the platform stood Will! I can't remember what he did or {said. It was a long time hefore I real- | ized that he was clinging to me in the | same frightened, unbelieving way that | T was clinging to him. | “I was just petrified.” he was saying. | The dearness of a familiar voice when you had thought you might never hear it again! | “Just called you up. long distance, i when I heard of the accident at Stony Point! Thought you might hear of it and think it was us and be frightened. And you weren't there! They were terribly worried—they'd called the hotel and you weren't there—girls have just | disappeared like that in big cities, and | never been found ” | “But how did you know that I was coming on this train?” I asked, be- wildered. “I didn't.” Will's face was still a | little grayish around the mouth. “f never thought of such a thing. I was waiting to catch the five-three. To hunt for you.” The sun shone bright and warm over us, the very planks on the station platform floor seemed different from any planks I had ever seen. Glorious, happy planks! “T called the Janssens, long distance, first, of course,” Will was going on “I thought you'd be there at the party.” “The party!” I exclaimed. bewildered. And suddenly it dawned on me. The bridge party the Janssens had been giving for me! I had the briefest moment of feeling guilty—it was too bad not to have let the Janssens know. But only the briefest moment. Standing - there in the sunshine with Will's arms around e, I suddenly saw, for a moment just 1 how little things like bridge parties or !camping trips count. A blister on my heel. Will's hating tearooms, taking our vacation together or separately—I could (have laughed at the idea of having given a moment’s concern to things like that. Only when I tried to laugh I began to cry again. Our vacation, stumbling around in a dark room, forgetting where every- thing that counted was. And then like a revealing flash of lightning, that | moment when I saw Will standing on the station platform. A bright, quick flash of lightning that lit up every shadowy corner. You couldn't live all the time in such a dazzling light. of course. I suppose |we'll be like all married- people, trip ping up now and then over some silly trifle. But it will be a long time before I'll forget the lay of the room again! I'll be able just to close my es land see that dazzling flash. And know Innere all the big, important things are standing. (Copyright, 19200