Evening Star Newspaper, December 28, 1930, Page 79

. 26N, 'D. C., DECEMBER 28, 1930. S~ 13 s e An Appealing Story by Eleanor Hallowell Abbotr broke the voice of the Young Preacher. “No danger at all, I am sure! Just a fallen tree probably and a broken wire. The damage will doubtless be rcpaired immediately. But meanwhile I implore you not to venture forth into the uncertainty, We can go back and wait in my study. There is the remains of a hearth-fire there.” - Gravely he turned and led the way back, gropingly, stumblingly, along the shadowy side aisle. Gropingly, stumblingly, the handful of people followed him:—vague, blurred, indis- tinguishable one to the other. Through the open door of the study a dying fire glowed its faint focus of welcome. Apolo- getically, the Young Preacher raked the dulling embers. Gravely he waved his shadowy guests to the shadowy benches ranged in the ~far corner of the room and watched them vanish one by one infd the abysmal blackness. Blackly silhouetted against the pale square of the fireplace, the Young Preacher stood just a bit uncertainly for a moment, then started decisively toward the door. “We can at least have a candle!” he affirmed, then stopped suddenly, swung sharply about and flung his young, impassioned arms like two prison bars across the doorway. . “No—no!” he cried out. “Who can tell but what there is God's hand in this? All this darkness—this delay? My one chance, per- haps, for all time! Oh, you New Year eve people—" . he cried out—“in all the year there is no other congregation just like you! At Christmas, at Easter, at Thanksgiving even, people come to church in groups. Fathers and mothers and little children. Beaming, joyous! Out of the very fullness of their hearts! “But you—? You New Year eve people—? Is it out of the emptiness of your hearts that you come? Alone—almost always alone— with taut mouths and faraway eyes. What do you seek here? Tell me! Who are you? And what are you? Here, in the sacristy of this featureless darkness, in the absolute privacy and assurance of your own anonymity, help me—I implore you! What brought you to the house of God tonight? Just how did the church summon you?” 'HERE was an awkward little lull of silence, ¢ broken suddenly by a gutteral exclama- Sion. “‘Summon’ me—nothing!” grunted a voice. “I'm a peddler, I am! What got me in here tonight was because my hands was cold!” The frankly disconcerted gasp on the Young Preacher’s lips changed suddenly to a faintly reluctant smile. “Yet who knows,” he ques- tioned, “but what the church that warmed your hands may in time warm your heart— and kindle your soul?” “Well countered, son!” laughed another man’s voice from the darkness. “S—sir?” questioned the Young Preacher, He seemed a little startled. “Oh, pshaw!” protested the laughing voice. “Oh, pshaw! If you really want to know this thing you ask, why in thunder shouldn’t you ask it? Me, for instance. You want to know who I am? Or, rather, I mean, what I am? Well, I'm a banker. Rather a hard-shelled one, too, I believe I'm reputed to be. For the last dozen years, as it happens, my busi- ness has brought me to this particular city at just this season, and I've made it a habit to check in somewhere at @ church service on New Year eve. The older men, I've no- ticed, are pretty apt to be off duty on this night. Worn out, I suppose, with all the Christmas services. So they turn things over to youngsters like you—who haven’t had the chance yet, I suppose, to compromise with life. And the things you youngsters say! Ro- mance mostly—hardly practical! But sort of sweet, too. Kind of takes one back, I mean, to one’'s own young days. “All this ‘right and wrong’ prattle of yours,” he snapped. “The consummate cheek of you! But—" he capitulated suddenly, “if ‘children and fools’ don’t tell us the truth now and fhen, who will?” “Thanks,” stammered the Young Preacher. “Gad!” chuckled a more youthful male voice. _“And I never heard a word the preach- er said!” Young feet shuffied just a bit un- easily. - “I'm just a clerk, you know, in a sporting goods house. I'm going to be mar- ried tomorrow. And my chums are raking the town for me tonight. Bachelor dinner, you know.” ~Once again he chuckled a little. “They’ll hardly think to look for me here, I wager! ‘But she's such a wonderful girl,” he stammered, “I sort of thought I'd like things to start sort of wonderfully with us! By Jove, I'll be back here again next New Year’s eve and bring my girl with me!” 3 A little awkwardness crept across the silence A bench creaked. “Oh, yes! And I? I was giving a party!” interposed Rhosa Waldron briskly. “Rather gay, you know, and all that sort of thing. But not gay enough, it seemed. They all went, that is, to find something gayer. Even my husband. But just all of a sudden I wasn’t with them. My mood, I mean. I felt crowded. Wanted only to be quiet. But even when things got quiet, it didn't seem to suit me. I felt uneasy. A sort of hunger—I don’t know for what, I went out in the park, just to walk, you know. Just to see what it was all abouf. New York eye. Just to find something to remember. Anything that wasn't just fooling. A man bothered me a little. A stranger—a tipsy stranger. I saw the spire of a church, the glow of an open door; heard the vox humana of an organ. I thought it would be a good place, you know, just to dodge into for a moment and escape A click at the latch of the pew door—the Stranger had followed her even there! PEERING blankly into the darkness, the Young Preacher made a little gesture of protest. “Oh, but surely,” he reproavhed her, “there must have bcen some spiritual sum- mons involved.” “No, indeed,” Rhosa Waldron persisted. “It is just exactly as I told you. But when I got into the church, gpu see, I had to stay. The Tipsy Stranger followed me even there, I mean. Right into the church, right into the pew, so 1 couldn't get out, There was no one else in the pew except a demure little thing in gray—and the Tipzy Stranger—and myself! £ “At first I was dreadfully annoyed. And then I thought it was sort of funny. But after a while I got looking up into the arches, those . great, shadowy, fathomless arches—so deep—so far. And then, all of a sudden, the chimes began to peal—those beautiful, terri- fying New Year eve chimes. I saw that the Little Girl in Gray was crying—and even the Tipsy Stranger had a shiver in his eyes. And then, just all of a sudden, we all three put out our hands to each other and made the ‘crossing,” as you call it, together! It's some- thing I shall never forget! Out of all time— that one strange little moment!” In the shadows just beyond her a shadow stirred. “I am the Tipsy Stranger,” drawled the shadow. “And I came—because I was led!” “‘Led?’” protested the Young Preacher. Once again he threw out his hands in a gesture of impatience. “Led?’ Five people taken just at random—and not one of you confesses the faintest spiritual reason for being here tonight! The thing is appalling!” “Why?"” quizzed the Banker's voice. “We got what we came for, didn't we?” ‘argued the Peddler. “I got my hands warm!” “And I got the truth, didn’'t 1?” grimaced the Banker. “And 1 found a silence,” stammered the Young Clerk. “Nobody talking to you, I mean, or chaffing you! It gave me a chance to think. It was—satisfying!” “And I found the solemn moment I was looking for,” attented Rhosa Waldron. “And I found—found——" faltered the Tipsy Stranger. With a sputter and sizzle the lights came suddenly up. A little bit precipitously, the Banker jumped up and started for the door of the study. With a scuffle of feet the others started after him. Half-smilingly, half-frowningly, the Young Preacher stood aside to let them pass. “Maybe you're right, after all,” he admitted. “Maybe it's—almost enough—if the church can give to the seeker that thing which he seeks. Even just warm hands,” he admitted. One by one, with a touch on the shoulder, he bade his guests Godspeed. ‘“Good-by—and God bless you,” he smiled. With & curt nod the Banker nodded good- night and disappeared into the street. Whistling a gay little aria from some opera, the Young Clerk followed him. Clanking with tray and gewgaws, the Peddler shuffled out. “Shali I call a taxi?” questioned the Stranger. “If you please,” said Rhosa Waldron. At the door ot the taxi the Stranger lingered a minute, adjusted a foot-rug and lifted his faintly smiling eyes to Rhosa Wal- dron’s inscrutable face. “All this Christmas spirit—" he questioned “—this business of ‘Peace on Earth, Good Will to Men.” Do you really believe it? Think it' lasts, I mean, even for a week? Even till tomorrow? Am I forgiven, I mean?” “Absolutely,” said Rhosa Waldron. The Stranger’s eyes narrowed. Tentatively he offered her his hand. Without hesi®.tion, Rhosa Waldron put out her own hand, but found it lifted to the Stranger’s lips. Faintly inscrutable, faintly smiling, they raked each other’s eyes for an instant. With palpable emotion the Stranger started to speak, then flushed a little and curbed himself to lightness and mockery again. “Most~--most gorgecus lady!” he said. They both laugied a iittle in spite of themselves. “Good-by!” said Rhosa Waldron. i “And God bless you!” said the Stranger. E took off his hat, shut the door. The motor started. The wheels churned from the transient drifts into the well trampled street. Quizzically for an instant, through a great holly-wreath flanking her car, Rhosa Waldron looked back and saw him still stand- ing in the flare of an arc-light, sifting gold- dust through his fingers. Then the picture blocked and the taxi raced her to her own door. Lolling back once more in her chaise longue by the open fire, pampered with pillows, she looked up at last to greet her husband’s return. Slowly, tenderly for an instant her eyes wan- dered across him. “Good show?” she questioned. “Rotten!” said her husband. “The worst ever! But some of the jokes were screams!” “Were they really?” said Rhosa Waldw" Something unfamiliar in her voice made her husband glance up suddenly. “Oh, I say,” he confessed. “I was a duffer to leave you! I'm afraid you've had a dull evening?” Rather carefully for an instant, Rhoda Wal- dron seemed to be considering the question, looked at her husband, looked through him, then back at him again—and smiled. “Not dull at all, old dear,” she said. “Not dull at all!” {Copyright, 1930.) What Is the Best Prospect for 19312 - Continued from Third Page sity together and told them that he wanted them to boil down their rules and recipes for happiness into simple form that they might be available to everybody. So the professors went away and at the end of a year returned with 100 volumes containing their findings. “That is far too much,” said the prince. “Nobody will ever read the 100 volumes. You must try again.” / So the professors went away and at the end of another year the president of the university returned with a single volume about the size of an unabridged dictionary. “That, too, is too large,” said the prince, who then decided that he must give his at- tention to the task himself. After some time he resolved the whole formula for happiness down to what in our language would be two words—altruism and common sense. Either without the other would produce fail- ure, he said. Altruism alone would lead his people into many actions which were foolish and ill-advised, and common sense alone might make them too selfish. A wise combination of these two principles put into practice over the world during 1931 might produce great happiness. MARGUERITE M. WELLS, Acting President, National League of Women Voters. EPRESENTING the League of Women Vot~ ers, it is in the field of Government that I naturally look for thé best thing that can happen in 1931. (Government is simply the arrangement by which people are able to live together in the world with justice to all, and the present arrangement needs a great deal of improving. I might look for better international rela- tions—to the adherence of the United States to the World Court, for instance—as the best thing that can happen, because it is one of the ways already provided to make it easier for nations to exist together in the same world with justice to each. I might look to the suc- cess of plans now under way for social welfare, because it is a sign of wisdom that a nation shall not forget its responsibility for the pro- tection of the young and handicapped. I might look to better governmental protection of the people from exploitation by economic interests. I might look to reforms in nominating and election procedure to make government more responsive to the will of the people. But in my opinion the best thing that can happen about Government in this country in 1931 is scmething more fundamental than these spe- cific measures. If in 1931 we can make more progress than has ever been made before to- ward intelligent participation of the people in their Government, we shall have the best thing that can happen. ROBERT P. LAMONT, Secretary of Commerce. THE best thing that can happen in 1931 is return to more normal business conditions and the restoration of employment. This is not only a national preblem; it is a world prob- lem. We in this country ocan lead the way. The work of the President’s emergency com=- mittee, the efforts of our States, our munici- palities and our industries are the best %:; ance that we can carry on through the and can also lay a foundation for measures to stabilize employment in future. DR. GEORGE BURGESS, Director, United States Bureams of Standards. 'HE greatest thing that could happen in 1931 would be for everybody in the United States who wants a job to be able to have one, Bringing about a change or a return to nor- mal conditions is not a one-man job. The eco- nomic depression is worldwide. It is a situa- tion in which not only industry itself, but Federal, Stafe and local Governments, othes organizations and even individuals will have to help. In such times it is customary for the people to look to the Federal Government for relief. It is true that the Government is the Nation’s biggest business, but it has been estimated that everything within the power of the Govern- ment to do would affect only two per cent of the people of the country. + The present economic condition is wholly due to internal stagnation. In reality our prosperity or lack of it is little affected by foreign mar- kets, because in- normal times less than one- tenth of the products of industry is exported. It is our home markets that are contracting. Those who have money which they might spend are not spending it. An improvement will come about when everybody puts his siéul- der to the wheel. It is to this spirit of mutual helpfulness that we must look if we are to find a remedy. (Copyright.- 1930.) Paint and Varnish Making, T}n’n{ additional factories entered into the paint and varnish business during the pe- riod from 1927 to 1928 and brought an sigd output of these products of about $20,000065 for the year 1929 over the vear 1927. The in- dustry gave employment to nearly 29,000 workers.