The Lambertville record. [volume] (Lambertville, N.J.) 1872-1968, 1904-10-19
Unto the Third
Generation
By CICELY ALLEN

customed to 1t. and she turned to him
with a wan smile.
At the head of the first flight of stairs
they turned into Mrs. Mlller's little
sitting room, and Francesca dropped
YEARLY into the low rocker by the
window. Dick sat on the window
ledge swinging his feet. His hall bed
room was on the floor above, Fran
cesca had the room next to Mrs. Mil
ler's, but since their engagement had
been announced the good natured land
lady had rather turned her little sit
ting room over to their use.
"In my days young folks didn't have
to do their counting in the park, and
l don't think It's right and proper"
she had said in explanation to her old
est hoarder. a crusty bachelor.
And now the two young people sat
In the twilight. typifying the two sec
tons of the country from which they
had Francesca, gentle, clinging
and dropping IN the fierce struggle for
SAlSAtii'C III INC Sltul Wy .
shrinking from the clamor of trains
overhead, the clang of surface cars at
her side and longing for the mellow
moonlight and the voice of the night
ingale In her old southern home; Dick,
alert, quick. fascinated by the oppor-
tunitles which had drawn him from
Il midwest farm. He had brought
nervous energy and strong. vigorous
blood, and New York loves to sap
and live Off them both. They had met
on the commercial highway and loved.
At least Dick was quite sure Of 1t on
his side. Tonight-well. Francesca
hardly knew what was wrong tonight.
"a whole day TO ourselves tomor-
row, sweetheart" he WAS saying.
Eyes" replied Francesca bitterly
'fThats what all the girls were saying
today. You'd think we were slaves
ara well, we arei'
Diek looked ut her In surprise. Then
he spoke cheerly.
well, we shan,t be always. DO you
know, Francesca, that little venture in
real estate Is coming out all right. |
could have sold my share today at Il
net gain OF thousand. But ! think
I'll hang on until we're married, and
We'll build on the corner lot
And you'll be Il commuter, and III
die of loneliness through the day"
Dick eyed her anxiously.
'ThiBgs 20 wrong Ak the shop? Well,
never mind. Tomorrow Wen have the
whole day
Don't say that again." she com
manded, then corrected herself quick
ly. Il mean. where shall we gof'
''If you don't mind, I'd like to take a
few flowers out to one of the cemeter-
les" Then, seeing the surprise In her
face, he added hastily: mot that I've
any one buried around here. only at
home on Memorial day we always
put flowers on the soldiers graves. and
guess we can find plenty of EN-
around here. Then Wen go down to
one of the beaches on the bcHt. We
won't get off. Just take the water
ride"
Francesca's hands were clasped tight
ly over her crossed knees.
you can do as you like. I'll never
decorate a Federal soldiers grave. Dick
Merrill, never, If it hadn't been for
that war I'd not be In this dreadful,
dreadful city working working like a
slave for SIS week, with girls who
don't know how to dress, TO talk. to
act. My people always had money, but
my grandfather was killed In your
war My father could not regain what
the war had swept away. He died
struggling with the problem. and my
mother followed him with a broken
heart. | hate the north, even though
had to come and ask it for bread. And
you ask me to decorate the graves of
men who devastated my home.
II didn't think. Francesca, dear; hon
estly didn't. You see, we've always
kept the day. My folks fought on the
other side, and then | guess I'm a bit
old fashioned. 1t seems natural to go
to the cemetery. and | didn't think of
how you might feel"
THAT'S IT, You didn't think You'll
never understand me-" the girl said In
low, passionate tones. There's the
Mason and Dixon line between U.S.
You northern men are so different
You're all business and dollars. You
get us southern girls up here and grind
our lives out"
Dick looked serious now, but he
forced a smile.
IF the north had not claimed your
talents, dear we would never have
met" he said, and II was her cue to
soften, but she did not take 1t.
"Oh. hate 1t! | hate 1.-THE air. the
noise, the rush! 1t has no compensa-
tons"
She did not mean 1t just that way.
but Dick took the words literally. He
stood up suddenly and very straight.
81 am sorry. Francesca, that you
think cannot make you happy"
And when she looked up he had left
the room so quietly that she could
hardly believe the move had been TAX
en- by vigorous, stalwart Dick Merrill.
She did not come down to breakfast
TIC utAt luOi hiuS, anu WHICH oiIbs VIII
Ter appeared at her bedside with a cup
OF coffee and some golden brown toast
the sound of muffied drums in the dis
lance told her that the parade was in
motion
'Dear me. SUI, but the house seems
quiet! It's funny how all New York
does make the most of holiday. Mr..
Merrill said you weren't feeling well,
but | think 1t would have done you
good to go out"
Francesca slipped at her coffee with
out replying.
Seems as IL just must go myself,
but Lizzie she was set ON taking the
day off, and she's such good help /
didn't want to cross her, but / do hate
to miss going to the cemetery. Isn't
1t funny, Mr.. Merrill and | coming
from the same town? / knew Just how
be felt this morning when he said
he'd go out and decorate some graves.