Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1903-12-12

millions for advertising, but not one cent
for sentiment" exclaimed John Borden. with
that firm set of his colorless lips, which
James Cartwright, his junior partner, knew
SO we'll Still Cartwright made one more eff
fort
We've done it, Jack, ever since the firm
was organized, and every mothers son and
daughter of 'em, from foremen to stock boy,
will be looking for It. Besides, don't know
but it will hurt our credit TO have the story
get around that the firm of Borden, Cart
wright & Co. had failed, for the first time
IN eight years. to treat its employees at
Christmas. It's only the matter of i've
each for the foremen and candy for the
rest-and-"
1.-THE best answer 1 can offer your RAM
bling remarks, Jim, is to refer you to our
books for the months of September and Oc-
tober. I'll be hanged If I'd add to the
losses the expense of this fool Christmas
treat. / leave tomorrow night for ST. Louis
The Burrel Company is putting In shoe
department, and l want to cinch their
trade.
well, wire Johnson to jump down there"
Johnson was their western man. Borden
frowned and snapped a rubber band vicious
ly around roll of papers
Il prefer to handle this deal myself and
take no chances. Some one has got to
hustle"
The implied suggestion of easy tolerance
fell lightly from James CartWrights Shout
ders. If his senior partner was bound to
give himself up body and soul TO the firm
success the junior member would not stand
In his way. Secretly he was registering
VOW to have Borden's mother down Tor
Christmas dinner. The white-halred old
lady, in her impressive but colorlesS apart
ment had become a pathetic figure to Jim
Cartwright and his sympathetic young WIFE
The pathos would have deepened had he
seen her the next evening at dinner, when
her son remarked carelessly:
Have my bag packed by o O'Clock,
mother. I'm running out to st. Louis for a
few days"
The slender, deep-vened hands of the lit
tie mother fluttered up TO straighten her
lace cap. The fingers touched the ribbon
bows, but one arm was carefully held to
shadow her face. Jack was always annoyed
at the sight Of tears. Just then he was
carefully mixing the dressing for his salad,
and did not notice that it some time be-
fore she replied, hesitatingly:
But day after tomorrow is Christmas,
dear"
Il know. I know" he answered rather I'M
patiently Jim Cartwright has talked of
nothing else for a week. But you and l
are old enough to have got over such fool
ishness. Jim said something about having
you up to dinner, and Mollies chatter Will
keep you from missing me-"
II miss you every hour, every moment.
The words trembled on her lips, but did
not fall. She had long since ceased TO raise
the slightest protest against her sons busi-
ness plans. But her salad was taken away
untouched, and good-hearted Irish Maggie
impaired to the cook the information that
either the blanc mango had been burned or
Mr.. Borden was in one of his tantrums, for
the lady of the house had not eaten more
than a spoonful of the dessert
And then they went into the library with
It's orderly array of shelves. Jacks severe
and well-apponted desk, and the unf1icker-
ing gas log. Somehow that equable uni
form fame seemed to typify her whole life.
She took her regular position in the
square rocker. Her soon took his papers to
the Morris chair. with its leather uphol-
stery. He liked leather 1t reminded him
of the shoe business in which he was build
ing up a fortune.
In her shadowy corner reached but faint
~ by the rays from the greenshaded student
lamp, Mrs. Borden rocked gently and
dreamed She closed her eyes 10 the hand
some room which represented the best
years of her sons life. Al least that was
what he said. To her the beautiful ap-
pointments represented a blank in her life
The best years? Why. those were the years
when she and her husband. with their gol-
den-haired boy, had lived in a small town
In Western New York. They all passed in
review before her-the first trousers he had
worn, his first frightened, awesome day in