Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1902-01-11
RETRtBUTpN WAS SWIFT

The pretty young woman got home about
1 pm from her little shopping tour. She
slipped on a kimona, wrote q letter or so,
and then she began to feel bit hungry.
She had quite forgotten about luncheon. Her
mother was out paying some calls, and it
was the servants afternoon of.
The young woman put a finger to her lip,
wondering what little dainty she'd fix up
for her luncheon. Suddenly sort of wolf
ish light appeared in her eyes. She stood
UP straight and tapped her forehead.
NO." she murmured to herself. i've no
place to go tonight. I shall spend the even
ing at home. reading my novel, and play
ing papas favorite pieces. This is my
chance-and how do love them, me oh
my!'
She went down the basement stairs al
most guiltily. Her manner was that of a
young woman about to do something
sneaky, underhand. At the bottom Of the
stairs she hesitated.
NO." she murmured again, there's no
possibility Of any one coming to take me
out tonight. Harry is" etc. etc. The
rest Of the murmur was not distinguish
able, and 1t doesn't matter anyhow.
She went to the kitchen cupboard and
dragged out peach basket filed to the
brim with fine sturdy-looking Burmuda
onions-big Juicy ones.
"Um, what chance!' breathed the
young woman, smacking her lips.
She peeled two Of the huge onions
and sliced them into a saucer, regard
ing them greedily as she did So Then she
went into the dining room and got the
vinegar cruet and the salt and pepper,
and she vinegared and sailed and peppered
that heaping dishful of sliced onions to
her taste. Then she got out fresh loaf
Of bread and the butter. and spread her
luncheon out on the kitchen table.
Then she sat down on a kitchen chair
before the rejection.
Then she did not do single, solitary
thing to those sliced onions and that bread
and butter.
I'm, mercy on us, but amt they nice.
thought" she murmured almost every time
she stabbed into the onion dish with her
fork. And haven't just been longing
the kitchen and eat sliced onions with vine
gar and bread and butter than sit down
to any old formal luncheon anywhere!''
Thus she gormandized, pondering on how
good the onions tasted, and making up her
mind that she intended to have them for
her luncheon every future day on which she
knew she was not to go out In the even
ing. Thus rejecting, she peeled and sliced
eddy.
She had Just conveyed the last scrap of
the final onion to her facial orifice when
the front door bell rang.
"Oh, fudge!' said the young woman, as
she rushed upstairs to answer the bell,
thinking that the ringer would probably
prove to be a peddler or canvasser or some
thing similar.
But the ringer of the bell was the young
woman's chummiest and intimatest girl
chum.
"Oh. Elvira," gasped the young womans
chummiest and intimatest girl chum. burst
ing breathlessly into the hall. I'm just
tickled foolish that I've found you at home
Jim, my New York brother, came down I'M
expectedly last night, and he's got a box
for the theater tonight, and lot OF the
incest boys are coming, and you must come
and what are you going to wear?"
Then Elvira tottered to the sitting room
couch and buried her face in the pillows
She didn't join the box party, but she will
never miss another box party On account
Of onions. She has taken the pledge
against them finally and forever