New Britain Herald Newspaper, February 14, 1921, Page 10

Where Crossroads Meet y real pleasure had, day in, day too brief interval n the third and rooming house. irectly beneath his p stood open a few allow a glimpse to e was a jolly littla ming red-— frequent- Beside it stood k. That was all. d the doorway glance at the stove into the narrow @ heard a rustle, a ine rustle, but he mer. Sometimes, if té in the evening, he of a violin, scarcely all the mean initia- and Scotty sighed » Scotty, old boy; day, then you will M and Dick Ramsey for on every line of was written “mis- mmed “Scotty” by what the boys de- “pleasingly plump” ured, Scotty was to the “Rah-Rah-Jah"” ly because of the “plump” folks gener- good-natured, or be- potty was almost su- gortaln things, they d board a street car, is usually crowded, & nice young lady or le on him very “sit tight” and look young lady’'s face and then get off at ‘Four Weeks From Tomorrow WILSON was seated filg of a group of steps of the col- "Il bet you all a big aploce,” here she motion subsided; it's so funny, you added. scheme of yours because you live in you have to hire the Summer. You would love to have ' Beatrice, but I have t mind to answer Mrs. if I keep my job all get that box ot evening that Ann at my home that from her grieved met and married E five years before. 1 for 10 years, and the fatal accident to diately wrote for ldred and join me in until she recov- from the shock. At a change of surround- her rest. reminiscent as after dinner. We chums, had enter- *“beaux” together. I but Elwin Abbott had with Ann's love, and she confessed the an aching heart and distrustful attitude. I Ann, and was not n about her meet- to see her enjoying the term—Mving over more than whispers. They floated up to him—enough to make him long for more, but ceasing almost as soon as they began. For weeks this room had fascinat- ed him. Why, he could not s Was it the stove? Was it “the roomer” he never saw? Tonight he passed the door slowly. He saw the same few inches only, and he heard the lightest possible rustle and that was all, but his heart choked him, and he stumbled up to hlc own room. There he sat on the edge of hia lumpy bed, and buried his face in his hands. He wanted to cry. He did not cry. Instead, he thought and thought. Was “the roomer” lonely, too? Was she young or old? Dare he speak to her? He glanced about his grim four walls which could never be a home to him. His memory of a little gray house in the fields of golden corn, or among the tender Spring shoots, or the whitened stubble, sent hot tears to his eyes. The present box from home had been meagre. “The girls,” who took ples and cookies as a matter of fact, and who never knew what it was to be away from home, could not under- stand. But little Benny, “queer kid,” had sent three ears of the prize corn from the farm, and all the popcorn he had raised in his school garden. *“Queer kid, Benny,” thought the big brother. But the corn looked good to him. It Aliston Corner, that they would be there waiting for him. “Scotty” knew he would be watched every moment, and It was with some fearful misgiv- Ings that he boarded the 7:16. The car was crowded in a short time, but “Scotty” managed to get & seat. Was it his luck, or what? but at that moment a young girl about 19 entered the car and stood beside “Scotty.” He felt himself weakening, but immediately he encountered a pair of eyes from across the way that warned him to ‘sit tight." The young girl after riding some distance looked down on ‘“‘Scotty” as she held on to the strap, but there was a susplcion of a smile lurking around the corners of her mouth , and did “Scotty” imagine it? but he felt sure there was a mischievous twinkle in her eyes as she looked at him, Again “Scotty” was .about to give up his seat, and again he encountered that warning glance across ‘he way. “Oh!” thought Scotty “I am miser- candy.” The next day Florence dressed as simply as she knew how and set off to secure the situation as a maid in the palatial residence of the wealthy Mrs. Rawson. Timidly she rang the bell, to be admitted by a trim mald in black and white. Florence gave her a friendly glance and sat down In the library to await her turn for an interview. Finally she heard a sharp “Miss Wilson, \n.nd slowly she arose from the chair’ Upon entering she found Mrs. Raw- son quite the opposite from what she had expected to see. The lady was little and white-haired, in fact, with quite a motherly air. Florence gave a agaln in memory her unique courtship. “You know, Bernice, I was always interested in what I called the psy- chology of love—" “And what I called nonsense,” broke in. “Pardon me.” “For five years I just lived on, meaninglessly, loving only my work and my puplils, ever try ng to conceal the fact that I was harboring that nat- ural passion to love and to be loved. I thought of Ann as a college girl, and recalled how it would hurt her if any of the girls seemed to neglect her or failed to show their fondness for her. Ann was likeable, loveable, and we were all devoted to her. “I became the official chaperone for the boys and girls in the high school where I taught. Their love affairs in- terested me, and often I recalled El- win and longed once pore to love and be loved. Love was my gospel, I lived it, taught it. I longed for that which 1 didn’t have.” “Why, Ann, wasn't there anyone for able whatever will she think of me,” and it was then that Scotty's gaze shifted, and it was then that he met a far different gaze than the younsg girl's. It was the gaze of an elderly wom- an, tall and stout. She fairly glared at “Scotty.” She was seated, but she was indignant because Scotty did not offer his seat to the young girl. The perspiration started to rain down poor Scotty's cheeks. He was “mis- ery” personified. “Allston Corner,” shouted the con- ductor, and Scotty made a grand rush for the door and for a breath of fresh air. The young lady also got off at Allston Corner. “Heavens,” came from Scotty: “I'm little gasp as she entered the room, thinking of her own little mother away off in faraway Arizona. After a few friendly questions she was told to report the next day. Florence ran all the way back to the college with the good news, only to be scolded and lectured by her school- mates. 5 “The idea of you, with your social standing, to think of doing this,” one girl exclaimed. “lda Longworth, ashamed of yourself. you ought to be It is good, hon- est work, and it won't hurt me one bit., I might just as well work as spend the whole Summer runming around visit- ing my friends.” you? To be a chaperone doesn’t elim- inate one’s own suitors.” “Elwin. I thought them all alike,” the poor woman added with a sigh: “Then one day I passed a billboard. I Know it's silly to you, Bernice, but I was attracted by what I saw.” “The same old Ann, overcome at 18 by your ideal love, and even at 25 you are impressed by a billboard. What was it, a ‘Let us furnish your home for you' advertisement?" My attempt to cheer her, to appear In any way facetious, met with disap- proval at once. I saw it from her ex- pression, for at 30 she was still a bundle of emotions, any one of which was ready to come to the surface. Choking back a sob, Ann continued: Cause and Effect se vacant. He was y couldn't Alice time?” he'd like Lfor, any- very pretty and sport suit. “Hello, honey-love!” she grested him as she kissed nim soundly, quite ignoring his disgruntled manner. youthful in a silk shl By Joclla Johnson was the best present he had ever had. Meanwhile something he had not ex- pected was happening from the room below. The strains of the violin fioat- ed up to him; bravely, cheerily they began. It was a tune he knew and loved. A voice joined. A young voice, sweet and tender. The voice trembled and ceased in a sob. The chords of the instrument stumhled and ceased. The door banged shut. John leaped to his feet. He hastily selected the three lusty ears of yellow corn from the others and bound them together with their own dried silk, and as hastily removed his heavy boots. Then stealthily he crept down the stairs. Outside the room under his own, he noiselessly fastened the ears | of corn to the door knob and stealthily returned to his room. Up there he hurried “tidying up,” whisking his toi- let articles into a drawer, kicking his shoes and rubbers under the bed, and stuffing his clothing behind the soiled curtain which served as a closet. Then he snatched up his banjo and strummed the strings. His own voice, untrained, but young and spontaneous, swelled. Singing lustily, John heard sounds other than the strumming and his sing- ing. Was he sure he heard a stifled cry of pleasure? Was he sure he heard a rustle on the stairs? He sang on. The unlatched door swung open and standing there half afraid, half joy- ous, the ears of corn tightly clasped in willing to bet almost anything that she knows me,” and his head dropped al- most to his feet with shame. Al Gordon, who was responsible for those “warning glances” in the car, junped off also. “Here he is, boys, and, say, he car- ried it out to perfection,” and the boys one by one cheered him, but “Scotty” broke away and went home to picture what that nice young girl must think of him. “Scotty” was in town the following day, and returned home on the 7:15 again, never dreaming he would meet the young girl, and in the excitement of last evening he forgot that it was the 7:156 he boarded. Every seat was occupied, and this time “Scotty” hung on to a strap. Directly in front of him sat the young girl of last evening. Their eyes met,'and soon she jumped up with an amused twinkle in her eye and said, “Allow me,” and walked to the other end of the car to a seat which' was just vacated. “Scotty” stared at the seat vacated by her, and it then dawned on him that she was making him feel the hu- miliation that probably she went through last evening. A titter went aroud the car, and “Scotty” could see that the passengers thought it a huge joke. He could only stare at the vacant seat and wish with all his heart that the car would fairly By Algia Frances Brooks. The next day Florence left her friends at the railroad station, not to see them again until their return to school in the Fall. As she turned her steps toward her new quarters she could think of nothing but her new du- ties, and two hours later found her in her uniform awaiting orders. Everything went along smoothly and Florence was congratulating herself on her ability as a maid. At last one day Mrs. Rawson called her into her own private sitting room. The minute Florence entered her eyes fell upon a photograph on her dressing table. Mrs. Rawson evidently saw the glance and volunteered the informa- tion that it was her son, expected “It was an ice cream advertisement. Two curly haired children, about Mil- dred’'s age—a boy and a girl—were embracing. ‘Love at first sight’ is what it meant. I stood still and gazed at the picture. Something seemed to whisper to me, ‘as God intended it— Love.’ There it was, the psychologic- al appeal, innocent love, divine love. Then Elwin—" She didn’t finish, but I knew her thoughts. She and Elwin had been en- gaged; but he was never worthy of Ann; Conrad often said that. To help her to continue, I asked: “What has that to do with your meeting Phil?” “I bad not noticed a man standing near me, who seemed equally oblivi- home from college in three days. Flo- rence felt her heart leap up, but con- tinued on in a discreet silence. The three days passed quickly, and with them came a young athletic fel- low two years her senior. On their first meeting, young Tom Rawson'’s eyes followed the new maid around the room. It was not until he had been home five days that he had the good fortune of catching her alone in the room. At last that day came, and he awkwardly asked her if she liked her work. “Oh, yes, indeed,” Florence an- swered, “One has to do something to earn a living.” Tom looked at her a little dubious- ous to his surroundings. I turned to g0, and the man said half aloud with- out taking his eyes from the adv tisement, ‘as God intended it—Love, In spite of my sympathy, I couldn’t check a smile. ' Ann noticed it, and again I had to question her before she would continue. “It was a common appeal striking home to two equally hungry, equally disappointed persons. There was no forwardness on his part nor on mine. We just stood there and talked. He knowing that I was concealing the real reason of the appeal of the two chil- dren, and I knowing that he was. We went our ways, but day after day we seemed to meet at that billboard, and as we passed we always spoke.” By Parke Whitney happy light die out of his wife's eyes; but somehow this noon he could not help saying things which he had never allowed himself to say in the past. While Alice busied herself in the in is b 3 a great remorse took possession of him, “Oh, why didn't I keep my mouth shut. Never spoke a cross word to the poor little girl, of course she doesn't know how to take it. And now he was her arms stood a girl, ‘biack "=z=irea, red lipped, . black. eyed. Her cheeks glistened with ears of homesickness and surprise. John was singing the tune. Sobbing, the girl finished the stanza, “and corn and somebody to talk to. You will talk, won't you?” she pleaded. “Tell me all about it. I am so home- sick.” John was shy, and he flushed, but he saw the girl's * distress was greater than his, so he smiled bravely and said: i “I'‘come from: Mineral. you?" The girl smiled brightly now. tears sparkled in her dimples. she said, “I'm most a neighbor. from Sheffield.” “Sheffield?” John laughed with de- light. “I'm John Devine,” he said, simply. “And I'm Lois Prentiss," volunteered the girl. They both laughed for sheer joy. g “John Devine, ‘Where do The “Oh," I'm " the girl spoke decid- fy to Allston Corner. Finally his wish was realized, and he alighted with alacrity. 2 He was hurrying along but stopped as someone called his name. “Mr. Scott, please let me apologize for the humiliation I -caused you this evening, but it was my initiation also. I didn’t feel half so bad as you did last evening; to me it was highly amusing, the idea of me offering my seat to a young man, but I did feel sorry that it happened to be you, and I hope you will forgive me,” and Beti Sawyer smiled sweetly. “Forgive you; why the idea! I should ask your forgiveness for my apparent rudeness last evening in the car. You see—" ly. “You don’t look as if you have worked for yours very long,” he re- marked. Florence felt as if she might be suspected so she deftly turned the con- versation. Many times he tried to make her answer catch questions, but each time she evaded the subject. One day, however, he asked her to go for a ride in his car, and as Mrs, Rawson was away for the week-end, she ac- cepted the offer and went. After they had got fairly started, Tom turned to the girl and said: “What are you doing this for, Flor- ence Wilson? I know who you are, so don't try to fool me.” Florence tried to smile, but it changed into a look of anxiety. “You won't tell anybody and make me change my plans, will you?’ she pleaded earnestly. “On one condition, fair lady, and that is you let me take you out when the coast is clear. Florence readily consented, and aft- er that the Summer flew by all too “And you secretly thought or began to think that he was interested in you, and that you might learn to love him.” I should have known better. Ann looked hurt, and covered her eyes with her handkerchief. “I believe you told me that you finally met him when one of your pu- pils met with an accident in school, and Phil was called to attend him.” “Yes, Phil had just been appointed medical attendant at the school.” I realized that either on account of my unwise remarks or Ann's fatigue that she no longer showed eagerness to tell her story. “And soon you married him.” “Yes, and soon he died.” With that Ann seemed to think her “Brute” he accused himself, “crank,” echoed his conscience. To have hurt the dearest wife a man ever had was indeed unbearable. : Clumsily he made his way into the kitchen, stumbling over a couple of chairs in his haste. Alice took no notice of him, but con- tinued to dig a pathetic little wad of moist linen into first one eye and then the other. Then she smiled wanly through her tears, and Philip, unable to resist any longer, gathered her into hn arms and begged to be forgiven. 1 _didn't mean it, edly, “I'm so homesick I don't know what to do. And, if you're from Illi- nois you must be all righ And, you're one of the Devines from Mine! al I've heard about you, so that’s all right, too. Now,” she entered the room and placidly seated herself on John's lumpy bed, “I've something to say.” John grinned at her. “Let's take that,” she pointed to Benny's pop-corn, “and pop it. You come down and we’ll pop it on my stove.” “Have you a popper?” asked the - practical John. “Of course not,” answered Lois, “but anybody can pop Illinois popcorn in a tea strainer, proyided she wants to, chuckled Lois. as she jumped up from the bed and ran to the door. “Of course, if you don’t want to—" But John was talking, too. “Pro- vided she and he want to,” he was saying, emphatically. Lois was tripping down the s and laughing gayly, so naturally laughed, too, and hurried after her. “Please don’t bother to explain, Mr. Scott; it is all right. Brother Al was mighty scared you wouldn’t-have an opportunity to be mortified, so he placed me right in front of you, and I was greatly amused but felt sorry for you, and you see I understood it was your initiation.” And again she smiled. “Al Gordon’s sister!” fairly shouted “Scotty.” “Just you wait ‘till I—* “Well, Mr, Scott, I'm a sympathizer, so come up to the house with me this evening and we will fix that big brother of mine.” And Beth lu' heartily. “Do—do you mean it?” And “Scoc ty’s” eyes fairly shone with pleasus “Allow me,” and Beth led the way. quick. . At last came the end of A gust, and Florence gave her notice in very business-like way. . Tom ‘wi right on hand when she gave it, and broke the uncomfortable silence. by, asking his mother if she would . her references. “Yes, indeed, she is the best girl I have ever had in my employ, fact she seems like one of the family.’ “Perhaps she will be, some’ da mother.” “Tom.” it Of course explanations Had to fo low, but the result was that Floren: went back to her friends with a derful ring on her left hand. - “I’ll tell you.what I will do, girls,’ she said, after she had told‘thém great news.~ “Instead of that box'S candy, you can all come to my.hou warming and we'll have a big spread. Just as she was leaving them to turn to their studies, she called o her shoulder, “Girls, that will be fou weeks from tomorrow.” “Well, Ann, there were five y.ll‘l which you lived your ideal, and ‘Mj dred will soon be four. Life for ¥q has not been void, and look whi & dred means to you.”. Ann would say no more. .—_—a—.——_ “Ever answer any of those coal: ing advertisements?” “Answer ’em all, I guess. But only got one recipe that had merit.” “What was that?” “It read: ‘Coal may be made to" longer by keeping:it away from sto and furnaces.’” peach, did you think I was crying cause you were a bit impatient?” “Well, weren't you?’ demanded astonished husband. . “I—I was peeling onions,” gasj Alice between peals of laughter. Philip joined her quite relie and shamefacedly. “You know dear,” he said f minutes later, “steak and oniof¥n er tasted so good before, especially onions,"” Applied Hydraulios. Mixie—A mine fel