Evening Star Newspaper, March 22, 1931, Page 89

PETER PIPER’S PICKLE A New Story By i - Cosmo Hamilton A c'est Paris,” said Peter, flinging open the window of the bridal suite in the Continental Hotel. “In other words,” he added, per- forming that trick with his hat which made all London laugh, “so this is Paris, eh? And here begins the honeymoon which we’ll remember all our lives.” “Yes,” said Pansy, who, having been in the same musical play for a little over two years, was obliged to force a smile. “Its going to be wonderful.” . With a boyish air of off-stage pride at being a man of wealth he slapped the place in which he kept his pocketbook—and nearly uttered. a scream. The smart new leather case, on which there were the initials of his comic though actual name, was no longer there. In it had been every cent of his money—the money which he had saved by dint of gruesome economy S0 that he might give his tiny wife a gorgeous honeymoon. Either it had been stolen by a peculiarly heartless bandit or he had dropped it in the cab. If the first, he would be marked down forever by the shrewd and careful Pansy as an irresponsible; if the second, he would near the story of his gross stupidity until he doddered to the grave. Something had to be done. ~Something which would get him out of this most frightful hole. He had no father upon whom to draw, no friends to lend him money, nothing that he could sell. He was in a foreign city in which no one knew his name. There was not a living creature to whom he could appeal. “WHATB the matter, dear? Still feeling & 2 wee bit giddy after that tossing on the sea?” A little thing she was, with amasingly small bones, baby eyes and a round face, & very kissable mouth and something that passed for a nose. Noticeably and charmingly pretty, with the fine emergency manner that goes with a “The least little bit,” he said, giving a beauti- ful imitation of a landlubber walking a tilting deck. “What you need,” he thought in anguish, “js time, You must earn, borrow or steal money before Pansy knows of this. You must make her blissfully unconscious with one of your sleeping draughts” In a medical voice he spoke, “Dearie, I think you ought to lle down. All this excitement calis for quiet and rest. You don't look frightfully well.” She had felt all right, though tired, half a minute ago. But nothing is so instantly calcu- lated to make one feel unwell as to be told that one looks so in a sympathetic way. “Bed has a lovely sound,” she said. “I will lie down for & bit.” And so he mixed the dose, a big one; said that it was bicarbonate of soda and hoped that she would go to sleep for 14 hours at least. A good little man was Peter, wiry and well built; not much more than 5 feet 6 on’'a brick; very smartly dressed. Nature, who had endowed him with every comedian’s trick, had very usefully provided him with a tragic face. Usefully, because thus it instantly awoke the laughter of the crowd. With a monocle screwed in his eye he kissed his charming bride and left her lying in bed. What was he to do? Like a man who drops 8,000 feet in a faulty parachute he went into the passage and walked downstairs. Much life . was going on. People arrived and The inevitable crowd of inquirers surged around the conclerge. A gqueue of eager women booked sezts to see the French plays that were better left unseen. Lonely men whose wives were shopping had tea at marble-topped tables in the wide courtyard. Behind three tempting martinis were three young and good-looking Americans to whom Paris was a dream. And there, alone and desperate, the tragic little comic without a single cent. He had read in daily papers of hold-ups in the streets; of men who stuck a gun into people’s terrified ribs, col- lected all their money and went off at a run, But Peter hadn’t, and never had had, a gun, He simply hated guns. And so he took his growing headache into the busy, chattering streets and was clapped on the back by a cordial creature who said: “You! By gum, what luck!” He was English and very well dressed. He wore the affluent and joyous air of an extremely wealthy business man in Paris without his wife. (X3 L3 ETER didn’'t know him, but he said to him- self, with excitement and a great spasm of , “He has seen me in ‘The Powdered Lady’ or ‘The Girl on the Motor Bike.’ I must have made him laugh! He’s the sail on the horizon. can touch him for a bit.” He agreed to wet He could do with a well mixed a gurgle of vermouth. himself sitting on a high stool in American bar. And there he sat hour, in higher and higher spirits, with and cordial friend. The number of -cars would have made a traffic jam. ving come to that subtle moment THE SUNDAY STAR, > { Gl ) .,,,;':‘..:;:L,;.'w y 7/ K” WASHINGTON, D. C, MARCH- 22, 1931.- Ilvvl‘v” ] ’ uy' “Peter was wholly alone, faced with the dire necessity of paying for all those drinks.” hen he felt that a touch could be made, he his providential companion and laid on his knee. It's too long a story,” he said, “and almost lmmlbleuwwhyl'moutofcuh.bnt the barman’s pugilistic fist, he did by placing on the counter one gold link from his cuff. He said, steadying the tremble in his voice: “Take it out of that. I'll look in for the balance to- morrow about 12 Climbing down from the high stool, he tottered into the street. He was followed by a growl. Among the jostling crowd of the city he felt like a pet canary which had flown away from its cage. But at the instant that he was tempted to throw himself under a car and let life and his ghastly crisis squash him as flat as a frog he spied the well known figure of a London Passing of Grand Army Hall Continued from Ninth Page today at the headquarters of the Department of the Potomac, corner of Ninth and D streets.” “The following are the principal officers present: John A. Logan, commander in chief, Washington, D. C.; Lucius Fairchild, senior vice commander in chief, Wisconsin; William T. Col- lins, adjutant general, Washington, D. C.; A, Starring, inspector general, Washington, D. C.; T. Lubey, ter general, Washington, D. C.; N. P. Chipman, judgs advocate general, Washington, D. C.; 8. P. W. Mitchell, surgeon general, Philadelphia, Pa.; A. H. Quint, chap- lain in chief, New Bedford, Mass.; Hanson E. Weaver, assistant adjutant general, Washington, D. C.; E. F. M. Faehtz, %. F. Morse and R. 8. Brown, assistant inspector generals, Washing- ton, D. C., and Charles G. Gould, A. D. C, Washington, D. C.” In the next issue of The Star is the following report: “The encampment reassembled this morning, but nothing of public interest was done. At noon the encampment called upon President Grant, who received them in the east room. Gen. John A. Logan made a short address ap- propriate to the occasion, and the President re- plied that he was happy to meet them, and would be glad to take them all by the hand. Gen. Logan then introduced the members sep- arately to the President. A delegate call>d out _that they should like to hear some remarks from the President. The President said he was at a loss to find words to express his feelings at meeting so many of his old comrades. The party then grouped around him, where some time was spent in conversation and the inter- change of congratulations.” THE next National Encampment was held in ; Washington, and was probably the great- est and most largely attended of all. It took place oh September 21 and 22, 1892. The writer clearly recalls this, since on the day of the parade he occupied a camp stool on the side- walk on the north side of Pennsylvania avenue between Twelfth and Thirteenth streets from 8 am. to 5 pm, and saw more Grand Army men than he ever saw before or since. This was a particularly notable occasion, and the people of the District of Columbia gave the Grand Army a welcome such as had not been given since the grand review. Of course, there was a Citizens’ Committee, which made all the local plans sufficiently far in advance to guar- antee the success that it proved to be. John Joy Edson, a vice president of the As- sociation of Oldest Inhabitants and Washing- ton's grand old man—if years mean anything, for he is still very active—was chairman of the Citizens’ General Committee. S. W. Woodward was vice chairman, Harrison-Dingman secretary and B. H. Warner treasurer. How interesting it is to ponder over the names of the other members of the committee and see how very few are with us today after the lapse of what seems to many of us but a short space of time. They were then of our leading citizens, and included: Commissioner John W, , Commissioner John W. Ross, Com- missioner W. T. Rossell, Justice J. M. Harlan, George E. Lemon, A. S. Worthington, S. S. Burdett, Charles P. Lincolp, Lawrence Gardner, E. Southard Parker, George C. Henning, Albert Ordway, William G. Moore, William M. Mere- dith, Theodore W. Noyes, Gen. Thomas M. Vin- cent, Admiral James E. Jouett, Gen. R. N. Batchelder, Duncan S. Walker, A. T. Dinsmore, Frank Hatton, Beriah Wilkins, T. E. Roessle, Robert A. Parke, M. M. Parker, A, T. Britton, L. P. Wright, A. A. Wilson, George W. Driver, Ellis Spear, W W. Dudley, Miss Clara Barten, A. A. Thomas, S. B. Hege, John R. Carmody, O. G. Staples, John McElroy, J. M. Pipes, Louis D. Wine, George Gibson, William Mayse, Isadore Saks, E. B. Hay, C. T. Wood, James Tanner, John B. Larner and Dr. Hamilton E. Leach. There was a real good spirit manifested at this encampment, fcr the war had been over long enough to bring the people back to a more normal way of thinking, and in this connection a most b2autiful example of the return to cor- dial relationship was a letter received by Maj. Calvin Farnsworth, one of the aides de camp on the staff of Gen. Palmer, from W. B, Smith, the commander of R. E. Lee Camp, Virginia, extending a cordial invitation to Grand Army men to become their guests while in Richmond. The letter concluded in the following words: “I assure you the invitation is cordial, earnest and sincere, and I hope will bs accepted by you and your comrades. We do not intend to attempt any lavish entertainment, but I assure you that we will do all in our power to make your stay in our city pleasant and agreeable.” The next encampment was that of October 9 and 10, 1902, and this was a big affair, too, and the Citizens’ Committee again materially assisted the Grand Army in making the event a success. It was at this time that the first Committee on Pointg of Historic Interest func- tioned. W. P. Van Wickle was chairman and William V. Cox vice chairman. Many will recall this celebration and the one of September 27~ October 2, 1915, which followed, and was the last held in this city. An event of more than passing interest in which the Grand Army performzd the principal part was the erection and unveiling of the Stephenson Memorial on the triangle at Seventh street and Louisiana avenue, the exercises of which took place July 3, 1909, when President william Howard Taft paid a glowing tribute to Benjamin Franklin Stephenson, M. D., founder of the Grand Army of the Republic, and to whose memory the memorial was erected by that organization, After the President’s address, the memorial was unveiled by Mrs. Grace Ross Van Casteel, and as the flags were drawn aloft, Mrs. Anna Grant Fugitt, acompanied by the Marine Band, sang “The Star Spangled Banner.” Wreaths were then placed around the base of the monu- ment by Miss M. Genevieve Spencer, Mrs, Hes- ter B. Tritpoe, Miss Emma T. Haywood and Miss Marie Clendaniel, representing the Daughters of Veterans. J. Massey Rhind, sculptor of the memorial, was presented and was cheered. Rev. Dr. Henry C. Conden pronounced the bencdicjion. A big parade followed. What the Grand Army is going to do for a home now is hard to say. “Comrade” Isabelle McElroy has tendered her home to Kit Carson Post as long as it may wish to meet there, and maybe other generous offers may be forthcom- ing for the benefit of ihe three other posts—at Jeast, let us hope so. theatrical agent on the other side of the street. “Lockett!” he shouted, ignoring the screech of blasphemy and brakes. “Lockett, my dear old pal.” ; Having been on the stage himself, though never able to act, Lockett recognized Peter with theatrical surprise. “Upon my word, it's Peter! What are you deing here?” . Peter gave his hat a tilt, touched his tie with' a loving finger and walked all around his stigk: “Honeymoon, old boy,” he said; “just dashed over the pond.” He was happy again. His spirits went up like a cork from a bottle of high champagne. In his old friend Lockett, to whom in his early days he had paid fees for several engagements, was the needed patch of blue sky in that dark mass of cloud. After a burst of “shop” he drew up short and backed his friend into the doorway of a store. “Percy, old boy,” he said, “you're going to save my life and my future happiness with Pansy, who is indeed my life.” There was a tremble in his voice. “Oh,” said Lockett, “how’s that?” He wore the expression that comes into a man's face when he sees the approach of a “fouch.” Pm told his story in the shortest number of words, adding with perfect confidence: “ “And so you will lend me a hundred pounds. That goes without saying, of course. Il give you an I. O. U. and pay interest at the rate of —" A hand fell his back, a large and hearty at the moment of its impact there “I always said you were earth,” said Lockett. He a thing as an“elevator, knees. * He must confess dear little Pansy as soon as she woke up. As he appeared in the room, fat and bulgy hit him in face. “Your dose worked like a charm, I've slept in one long piece. Oh, an your nice new pocketbook. You gave it to carry after you had paid the cab.” And as Peter did one of his best and most mirth-provoking exits back into the sitting room through what appeared to be a blinding glare of sun tears of gratitude—scalding tears trickled down his nose. “The Glass House Gang.™ Continued from Second Page H ally his progress through the teeming afsles quickens, his inspections grow more superficial. And at the end of two hours he begins to feel that he wouldn't care if he never saw an- other flower. His old brick-and-concrete ene vironment seems not so bad after all. He de~ cides not to break his lease. I have noticed that whenever Phoebe and L go to a flower show we always end up at tnhe display of garden furniture—the portable Sumse mer houses, the gayly striped chairs and benches. We try them “just to see if they’re as comfortable as they look.” So we sit there, luxuriating in a state of blissful relaxation til some footsore flower fancier taps us on the shoulder and says, “Move over!” Then we gather up our armfuls of garden literature and stagger home with the cone sciousness of having done the right thing by junior. The literature is entertaining, and free quently instructive, But none of this information has any direct bearing upon junior. It is all in the realm of pure theory, as far as our pet geranium is cons cerned. Like most of the people who attend flower shows; I would appreciate a few and practical instructions entitled “How Keep Cigarette Stubs Out of the Window Box.” That is the real problem of the apartment