Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1894-05-05

Portable for sensible
people. It came about In this way. A
short time ago I visited in another city,
with an old classmate whom I have not
seen since We graduated, and that was
well. a good many years ago, perhaps
twenty will measure the flight Of time,
though you may find 1t to be more before
tell you the story Of my latest grievance.
One evening when we were up In her
room in dressing gowns and our hair
down-the lights were low and We could
not see the gray threads-we were discuss
ing the friends Of those early years, when
Katharine mentioned a photograph that
three Of US had had taken together in our
graduating gowns. and asked me If re-
membered 1t. At first didn't, so from the
secret depths of her Saratoga she brought
forth carved sandal wood box, exquisite
ly inlaid with gold and mother-of-pearl.
l remembered the box; 1t came from Cey-
lon and was given her by her sailor uncle
when she was little child. From her
jewel box she distracted a tiny gold key
and. with fingers that trembled, she pushed
Ii in the lock.
ut has not been opened in fifteen years,
Sara" she said, unsteadily. as she raised
the lid, letting the imprisoned perfume
steal like incense through the room. 1T
is-like-opening'-a long CLOSED tomb" she
went on, with little quaver in her voice.
anu lnen IL HaSneQ over me that II mad been
just fifteen years since l got the cards to
a wedding that never came off! Death
stronger than love or life, stepped in be-
tween, and one was taken and the other
left. Since then my friend has known how
bitter thing it is to look into happiness
only through another's eyes. While my
mind was taking an excursion into the
past, my eyes were busted with a curious
bulky looking book which Katharine lifted
from the sandal-wood box Turning up the
lights, she laid the queer thing on my
lap, then dropped on hassock at my feet
with her elbow on my knee in her old
glrlish fashion. AS she sat for a moment
with the fire light on her face and her thin
hand resting on the cover of the book =
could see the publication that suffering
mad wrought. Sorrow and trials have been
her constant companions since she left
school, but, like a wind-blown flower, she
bowed her head till the storm passed, and
then the fragrance Of her gentle life made
all the air sweet again.
An Old-Fashioned Photo.
Nellie Is dead. you know" she said at
last, turning the leaves of the book rapid
ly. she died in Rome, twelve years ago.
Here Is the picture" and the thick leaves
fell apart at a cabinet photograph, I'M
mounted. but pasted on the leaf What a
queer looking thing it was. 1t was badly
taken to start with, and had faded and
blurred till our feet and hands, in COM
mencement array of conven tional white
lOOhtQ even ClunSler than usual, The
odd old-fashioned puckered-up dresses of
white silk and null and the perfectly in
ane expression on our countenances was
i ne pre- funny; and We laughed TIL
tears and laughter is but short you know
What In the world is this book any
how l asked. with the delightful as
surance Of curious friendship. This is
surely piece of the lace that trimmed my
graduation gown. Grandmother made 1t
herself. She brought the art with her from
Ireland. This is bit of your gown; / re-
member We were all frantic with envy at
its exquisite fineness, and am just as pos
tive that this is a piece of the Identical
sash that you gave Nellie at the time that
you gave me the pearl brooch. They all
came from Yeddo. together. How it all
comes back to me-"
1T is even so,' said Katharine. with
sad smile she smoothed the bits of silk
and null. And over on the next page you
will find one of the commencement invita-
tions. and a flower from the bouquet that
/ carried. How brown it is and she laid
her cheek for an instant against the still
fragrant thing that had once been a white
lilac. You remember the time We had get
ting enough white lilacs for all of the
girls? That Is a bit of the ribbon that
tied my bouquet. 1t is an odd mixture,
isn't it?" She said at last, reverting to my
question. II call 1t my memory book. L
have my dear old grandmother to thank
for it's existence l was the first grand
child and her favorite. 1 presume that I
from her. She had whole cabinets of little
things. reminders of accidents and incl
dents in her eventful life. When l came
into the world, she began to collect for me.
See the cover Of this book. Isn't 1t gor-
geous?" and she closed 1t to show me the
rudy color.
Reminders of Former Days.
THAT red velvet came from Lyons, and
was a present from my godfather. 1t was
my first short cloak, and this cover was
made from the corners of it. which were
deliberately embroidered in gold, as you can
see Grandmother did the embroidery, and
my name in the center is made with
threads of my own lint white locks by the
same loving fingers. These first inside
leaves were made from the MORE antique
Of my mothers wedding gown. See! 1t Is
stif as board They don't make such silk
as this now, except on order. Grandmother
made the first little clothes that I wore
from linen that she wove herself when she
was q girl. The girl who had not full
outfit of household linen that she had woven
and made up with her own hands was not
thought fit to marry In my grandmother's
day. She made most of the fine edging and
lace for my clothes, too. The real thread.
with bits Of my baby Clothes; isn't the linen
fine and soft? We were favored babies.
Sarai I remember that your grandmother
made exauisitely fine lace. too. This was
my very first baby cap and shirt" and she
held them up on her fingers. They were
hardly big enough for doll. Under each
bit of linen and lace was the date Of the
first wearing. Against the third page
tiny ring of yellow hair was tied with a
bit Of baby ribbon. The inscription under
It was: July 1S-Katharine christened.
Three months old today" And the rest of
the page was fastened full Of linen and
lace and ribbon, scraps from the christen-
ing clothes. At the bottom of the page, in
the angular, upright characters Of the day,
was q verse.
lust a wee. winning. helpless baby,