New Britain Herald Newspaper, May 15, 1925, Page 27

. ] ’ FAR Fom CTITY STRIFE = - & P! Novton Swet MOS HIGGINS, one of the fifteen clerks In the Guardian Life Tnsurance offices, noticed a sign, “‘Get Your Home Town Paper,”” on a newsstand on State street. Amos was on his way to p hasty lunch at Ben's basement cafeteria around the corner. He really hadn't any time to read signs, but somehow this particular one aroused in him more than a passing interest. So he read it again. He paused a moment on the eurb fn the hot sunshine. Pushing back his bat, be meditatively seratched his bald spot. Amos was thirty-five, and not much given to rash decisions, yet in that mement he wade his resolve, “By cracky, I'll do it!" he muttered, sriuning. He passed his hand over his sprout- ing beard and went down the cafeteria steps. That was Friday afternoon. Friday night at five, when Amos joined the strap-hang- Ing, paper-reading, moist-looking crowd on the elevated, bis mind was more fully re- tolved than ever. His aunual vacation be- €n on Monday. He'd go back to Rush- ville, 0., be would, and spend the entire two weeks of his holiday in the old home town, As he alternately swayed against and apologized to the fat lady seated in front of him, his subconscious mind was busy with visious of Rushville's old town pump where the kid gang used to stop and splash, Amos even remembered the names of the streets, }fr could recall the exact location of Andy Kline's barber-shop snuggled in between the fly-specked candy-kitchen and the corner drug-store. The crowd at Mr, hrmuh that night listenes on the dear dead 8 when he Rushrille, O. They were a young lnl:.dd m‘: phisticated crowd, but out of respect, no doubt, to Amos’ bald spot, they let him rave about Rushville's charms. But at the lemon wafer-prune 8tage of the meal young Alexander, who conducted the Palace Pool llgll down 6n Kighth street somewhere, voiced the opinfon of the assembled boaxders. " ‘l‘Ah. come out of it, Higgins," he jeered. I'll bet Rushville's the deadest burg this I‘M! of the grave. Why, you'll find dande- lions xr"rwin' in the middle of Main street ond a line of worm-eaten hitchin’- posts in front of the general store. We all know the kind. We ain’t none of us envying you that vacation you're takin'. Nay, pay!” Amos was not convinced. ‘‘You folks have lived so long with asphalt and aky- ecrapers and jazz that you just don't know how to appreciate the nice, quiet little towns." They laughed. Amos sniffed. And on Monday morning at eleven he was watching the telegraph poles fly past as he leaned back in the red-plush chair-ear that whizzed him toward Rushville, As the train left the smoky city and be- gAn to skim past green country places, Amos opened the window and, heedless of cinders, let the cool wind blow on his bare bead. 0'Toole’s boarding d to Amos’ eulogy HEY stopped at several tiny ‘stations where the name of the town was speiled out in red geranfums on t| Jquare grasey plot adjoining the little red 'depot. Amos was charmed. . “Just a little bit of qéldti{in} the old home town—that's all I need to set me up this vacation,” he mused. ‘{{¥ellows like Alexander ought not to be allowed fres speech. They discourags the simple life; that's what they do.” A delay of two hours brought Amos to his destination two hours late. Amos straightened his straw hat, and laid bandx on his traveling bag, and was among the first to alight from the train. Things seemed in a terrific uproar about bim—bawling taxl-drivers, shrill newsboys darting through the crowds, hurrring red- caps laden with suitcases—all in a glare of electrie light. And in the paved space be- fore a big pressed-brick ultra-modern sta- tion Amos stood and looked about him. Then it dawned upon bim. In his eager- ness to reach Rushville he had got off at the wrong station. He turned to get on the train again; but it was too late. Amos said something under his breath and glared at the swiftly receding cars. A newsvoy pushed a paper under his noss, Amos frowned at it. It was the Rushville Democrat. He bought it. “‘How far is it from here to Rushville?" he asked. The urchin hitched one ragged sugpender over his shoulder and grinned. ‘‘What's eatin’ yuh, anyway, mister? You're in Rushville right now.” Amos stared a second, open-mouthed; then he went into the station. A slim red- eap sprang to his side, and, being denied Amon's bag, showed him the elevator. The elevator took the stunned Chicago clerk to the street level. Two or three hotel taxi-drivers vied with each other in a raucous vocal contest, Amos caught tha name ‘‘Butler House."”” It was the one thing #0 far that reealled the Rushville he had known fifteen years ago. Old Sid Butler used to run the place, and Amos' father bad driven the Butler House bus. A smart taxi with a driver in dull-green livery took Amos and three travellng men to the Butler House. Amos tried to place the candy-kitchen and Andy Kline's harber shop, but as the taxi whizzed up Maln street he saw only a succession of electric signs and seven and eight story buildings. Amos would have freely questioned the old-time bus-driver, his father's successor, but some- bow the liveried taxi-driver balked his in- quisitiveness. When they arrived with a flourish and a honk at the Butler House, Amos about de- cided that he might as well have stayed in Chicago for all the quiet village life he'd see in Rushville. The Butler House lobby was mosaic- floored. Amos' room was equipped with A tiled bath, a telephone and an electrie fan. When he went down to dinner he tuought of Ben's basement cafeteria as a quiet, retiring little eating-place by con- trast The linen-draped tables had rose-shaded lights and spindle-necked vases of flowers. An ebony-hued waiter, as solemn as a black judge, took Amos' order. An orchestra, behind the conventional screen of imitation palme, played jazz selections. When the #alad came, a Titian-haired young woman in an unblushing decollete gown of orange and black smilingly strolled up and down bis nisle and sang at him entreatingly to kiss her again. After four courses and three cigarettes, Amos went out on Main street. A bell-boy told him it was Broadway. Amos strolied eastward toward the spot where the town pump used to be. He knew it wouldn't be there now, but he wanted to sce the place just the same. What he found was an artesian well with two cherubs done in stucco shivering unde: a fluted marble umbrella. As Amos drank from a sanitary cup he became conscious cf an cmerald-green sweater and a white gport skirt under the electric light across the fountain. Then, naturalls, he noticed that a lot ot blond bair, two blue eses, and a small, trim figure went with them. Amos was lonely. Rushville was disappointing, to say the least; so he spoke. Nice evening," he aid, with the usual ality of such ventures in chance con- versation. The green-sweatered ope mur- “Nice evening,” said he, with the usual originality of such ventures in chance conversation G Mrs, O'Toole and the boarders were somewhat amazed when they saw Emmy mured an water. Amos filled a second ecup for himself and remnrked solemnly: "I used to live hers Never saw such a change assent and sipped at the cool fifteen yenrg ago in a place.” “Yes. Rushville is a real town mnow. My father's shop has grown to twice the size it way when he started in business liere S Amos was politely curious over there. I do the manicure work.”” The girl nodded toward a revolving electric sign across the street. It bore the name of ‘‘Kline.” MOS had found at last a link between the old Rushville and the new “Why, I'll bet I knew your dad when 1 was a kid, before I got the city fever,” e bezan eagerls, As the girl crossed to the &hop Amos boldly walked with her, ex- plaining repeatediy that he was anxious to meet Andy Kline again. He found him gray -haired and p looking. in his parlor which blazed with lights and mirrors. Andy was effusive in his welcome to the homecoming son of Rush- ville. He incisted on Amos going to the corner drug-store with him and Emmy—Emmy was the girl—and drinking a series of soft drinks. Amos was not loath to go. He en joyed watching Emmy eat her chocolate sundae. She did it daintily, looking across the little table at him with eyes that par- ticularly pleased Amos Amos had never given much thought to the color of girls night he liked blue eyes rather than brown or gray: in fact, he preferred blue eyes above all others. It was almost ten when the trio left the sperous exes, but he decided /that rnate onys-fountained d Aoy nds with them, ar invited him to dinner t night. There was no Mrs. Kl y didn't a maid but Andy said E v was a first-class cook as well as a manicurist At about eleven the next morning Amos decided to have a manicure. It was hiv firat concession to fastidiousness, but he went boldly into the white-and-gold shop and stated his wants He did not see Andy or E sir.”” A polite young barber u into a curta little glass-topy will be here in a m Amos waited my Ven, ered Amos ned booth and seated Lim at a “The manicurist ment, sir The wanicurist did come —a comely, light-colored mulatto girl, in neat black, with ting v and cap She set to work in a businesdike way never suspecting her client's agitation of mind Amos had expected to see Emmy. He found out later from Andy that Emmy al ways left at eleven and went home to get her father' Lou taok In the afterr ch, while the efficient Lindy ace however, Amos went ¥ to the iment. At 1 Ands returned to back and succeeded taking E drug-store for ber favorite refres four she went hom the lobby of the B Houge and read the Rushville Democrat five v. But he was bored and anxic ' K0 to Andy's place on West Co He I ved out that way himself when te was a hoy. He laid n ot the place t . fa fact that out the had lived in the days befor de: re were Amos explaine Aund dad ler House A\'l\\ remember. e on the But L KLINE'S house Conrt poplar and m The dinner was so good, Emmy so ‘ &b—%%@é@fla- pleasingly demire such good company Butler House He cou ald-fashioned and pretty, and Andy that it was midnight t back reluctantly to the not go to sleep at once. He mmy | that sticks to the king ways,”’ he “You can tell just by looking at t she wouldn't cure a rap sbout jazz She's just a pice, home-m her t ret or such rot quiet little girl, that's w Then Amos Higgins, bachelor, and not given to sentimen med of a white cottage somewhere in Chicago's sub- urbs, with Emmy sewing on the front porch in the afternoons and meeting him at the gate at six-thirty with the announcement that sapper was just ready. It was such a peaceful dream that Amos naturaily drifted into peaceful eleep and Emmys and white cottages and home-cooked meals. As a resuit, swhen he awoke the next morning, it was with a dreamed firmer conviction than ever that Le had found in noisy little Rushville the girl of his drer Which only goes to show the power of a pair of blue eyes can have over a bachelor—particularly after he is well fed. Men like Amos Higgins, contrars to gen- eral opinion. do not leave their fate an the gods for long. The last day of his two weeks in Rusbville, Amos proposed to Emmy. MMHEY were on Andy's front porch on Runday afternoon. Andy was taking ay nap upstairs. Emmy sat oking very sweet and cool in a bl that just watched her eyes. So Amos thought. The talked of the poplars along the walk, and of the result of yesterday's ball game, id of the reasons for women not voting lieve in woman suffrage. Em- his usu in a chair, A wy said no, she didn’t Ther, asked Emmy m. She opened her blue eyes a e wider at that, but that was ber only surprise. would we live in Rushville?” then with startling quickness Amos explained that he had thought of a little place out in the suburbs of Chic He ood a position with the Gu ian Insurance Company to leave the city I'he suburbs—what are they like?'" asked Emmy quite suddenly, A Wi d- e “Ol. trees and grass and a few flowers, and fres r—th u don’t get in Chi cago,'" replied Amos vaguelr E rowned thongh “Trees, " s g I'v ad ‘em all my life Rushville. Do you care for them bis preference for existence, with its trees and grass Chiea- couldn’t we? ] marry and go t ved Amos t » kiss her once and in his own vanted ld her just w e which was t be A\ % ¢ a & efly H FOUu got ¢ . N Emmy laughed. *'T couldn't o o 38 in Chicag Why not? I—] k are pretty Amos protest But Emmy was Ww Cawn -stairs t five ¥ told o st ree e The Amos 2 g v A with e G ¢ any f vears Emn plus a Am g—in ville TTW\] CeppEnREE | st t X"\C‘C\Snn till he should return in four weeks and be- come a henedict f The pavements in Chicago windows, “Rushville’s a little Chicago, that's all ted Amos as he i n the elevated it is,"”" refl Mrs. ('Toc the dickens can't g0 for vacations?' Ar Amos ¢ 0'Toole estaly to salmon s ~ “Shur Mrs, O to other | per on Sunday evening MOS took his accus asked hin communion wit Amos hastened to these 9. 4 were showing little little burgs and give us city folk a place to norance concerning Rushville “If you want to learn the latest dan steps or seo the very newest t ties, just go Whs re's no more ‘back to na in that little burg than there street.”” He paused cept In one place and one thing in Rus real unvar pre Andy ehook his hand off wn {0 1 and s around it the Mrs. O'Tonle wiped the ¢ it was exes and gaid just like that when she and Tim wer forts vears a dint-like A the waitvess, to give Mr. Higgins some more It iz not my inten to append an ac count of the Higging Kline wedding Yoa bride to Mrs. O Tonie's till could k around & i ting the aub urban nest with her roral. " Emmr, it € F Acres.” T Whe ¥ & Not =0 F oW o'T ¥ Nu e € A West ( rt stre “What's eatin’ yuh, anyhow, mister? in Rushville right now” then added There's just one spot flle that's of | big They 15 weren't any botter than the pavements in Rushville, and the drug-stores in both pl the same rotund bathing-suit dolls in the went up o “Why burgs stay se in the hoarders at the liment were just sitting dowo weak ten : in feedin’ the poor byes. was in the habit of saying dies who did not serve 8up * as they called it he veil of their i&- ing in neck Rusl white neariy ners of her co- REE-SHADED streets and soft night airs, fragrant with the breath of honeysuckle, and a girl who loved him and all the gentle quiet of a small town is what Amos dreamed of. But what he found! Poor, poor Amos! Well, there’s no boob like a city boob, and the fat- test suckers are always found on the most crowded streets. ing lettuce and fresh eggs into town in & Now, you let me go out to- ear or so, morrow morning, and 1'll find something decent, Please!" When Emmy sald ‘‘please’” Amos al- Nearly every one did. ways capitulated, and kept bis regrets to Amos did %0 now, jimaelf. ; ’Kml so Bmmy, smartly clad in white lin- en and A panama bat, confidently set out at nine next morning after a careful perusal i the ‘‘For Rent” columns in the morning japers. 1n£L twelve she as confidently returned. Emmy seemed to have developed a certain tad well-defined assertiveness since her marriage. She wan as much a part of Chicago a8 If she had been born there. The O'Toole boarders recognized this, if Amos did wot ¢ Amos eame home at six she told The rent wan a month in advance, and they eould Amos ventured to L was all settled pa move in the next day inquire further “Why, it's in the Coronado Apartments, Amos,” she said. *‘Two rooms and bath— {hat is, one room and a kitchenctte. Plenty Third floor; and the cutest to ourselves, with of space for us little baleony porch, all an fron railing around i Amos felt as if the iron railing was al- You're ren An | P T I3 goes I Acres At3 A M s the clang of the first an. At seven- & he coffee and . the morn g s 8 r after : 2 s wn the three flights of s his & might say, lest % e: "D k to the ald o Public Ledger Compong A\ A Za