The Press. (Stafford Springs, Conn.) 1883-1935, 1904-03-17
BEING A
BOHEMIAN
BY HELEN RosOIand

fellow who stood beside the coach. by
by, Teddy" and with a pretty little
movement she blew kiss to the wait
ing man, then disappeared within the
door of the train.
The man lifted his hat solemnly
Then he strobe away with quiet. hurt
look in his eyes, not even waiting to
see the merry face that peered out OF
the window as the train painted and
puffed out of the station.
"Oh, brace up. Morrison! This won't
do. There's no use making mute OF
yourself for any fool girl who doesn't
half appreciate you"
"You don't know anything about itr'
And Terry Morrison walked OF. leaving
the man who had been trying to cheer
him up standing where he was, little
chagrined and bit sorry for the big
fellow.
As the train whizzed past the out
skirts of the city Dorothy Brockway
stretched out her arms and drew a
deep sigh of relief.
Free, free, freer' she breathed in a
passionate whisper and leaned back in
the seat with wonderful smile in her
eyes and deep, joyous satisfaction per-
meating her whole being. mo more
mammas! No more Teddy! No more
chaperonsi No more tea parties! she
went on. Just fun and work and do
as / please and be bohemian. Oh, how
/ hate it all! Mammals conventionali-
tiesi Teddy's bossing dear old Ted!
How broken up he looked And some
of the merriment faded from her eyes.
1t was dusk as her train steamed into
Jersey City and the tall skyscrapers on
Park row were sending forth million
twinkling lights that streamed over the
water. Dorothy looked about her lit
tie bewildered, but made her way hur-
riedly to the gates, followed by a fat
porter who carried her grips. Through
the bars she spied a smiling pair of
eyes, and Corinne Morrison came to
meet her with an amused look on her
face.
"You dear little idiot" said Corinne
as she kissed her and led the way to
the ferryboat. You absurd little
greene! Why on earth did you leave
my good and glorious brother to come
up to this seething caldron? Why
didn't you stay at home and marry
him and get supported for the rest OF
your life?'
Connie" said Dorothy severely, you
don't know what it is to be bossed and
bossed and bossed. l want to be bohe-
mian."
There was a queer little light in Co
rinne's eyes as she answered: "All
right, dear, We'll begin right away
Come, well take a street car instead
of a cab. 1t wouldn't be bohemian to
take a cab, you know. Bohemians are
all poor. I'm a bohemian"
'But-but-all these bags!' And Dor
othy looked helplessly at the pile OF
leather satchels beside her.
''They aren't bohemian either" And
Corinne relentlessly led the way to the
car, Juggling two satchels, while Doro
thy followed helplessly with the rest.
Three-Quarters of an hour later they
were YEARLY climbing the stairs tC
Corinne's studio. Up one long fight
up two, up three! Dorothy sat down in
a heap on the dirty floor to rest
''Connie, is your studio in heaven"
Eyes, when 1 sell anything. Come
along, girly; you'll get there. 1t merely
requires perseverance" And one more
flight brought the two to a battered
door in dirty hall, smelling of mold
and dampness. Corinne took out heI
latchkey and unlocked the door,
"Oh, how gloriousr' sighed Dorothy
TO carry your own latchkeyw
"Delightfulr' And Corinne's voice
was a bit ironical.
Just three weeks later Dorothy rolled
over wearily in her automatic combina
ton bed and folding couch that did
duty by day as an oriental corner
with lot of gaudy pillows piled upon
it.
Connie" she said tragically, do you
know just how much money / have
between me and the cold, cold world
Just SIS! And 1 haven't sold a single
thing I've written, and, Connie, Is there
anything else In Bohemia besides work
and disappointment and editors who
won't see your"
"Yes," said Connie doubtfully, 81 be
lieve there are the Hungarian restau.
rants. You need cheering up, girly
Wen do a Hungarian restaurant to
night. I'll telephone two of the BOYS
from Park row to meet us somewhere
and We'll go to Martinetti's.'
Meet us? Meet us? Can't they call
fer US here?''
"Why, no." and Corinne turned re-
proachful eyes on Dorothy. "They are
newspaper men. you know, and can
only steal an hour or so from the office
Besides, that would be awful conven-
tional. No. not that low cut frock,
goosie. Pick out your plainest shirt
waist if you're going stunning with
me-"
Dorothy set her teeth firmly and
smiled AWAY the little frown that had
begun to cloud her forehead.
The tweezy orchestra was playing
the latest air from a popular comic
opera as Dorothy Brockway, followed
by Corinnc and the two newspaper
men, in their morning clothes, entered
the third rate bohemian cafe. The
lights flashed on a hundred women in
gaR:7 gowns, wearing every color and
variety OF hat. Jewels, real and paste,
twinkled under the chandeliers, and
the fumes from a hundred cigarettes
rose to heaven. Some college boys were
singing "Bola Bolar' totally oblivious
of time and tune, and were pounding
on the table with their forks in wild
applause at their own jokes.
How do you like it?" asked Corinne
as they took their seats.
Its choky," said Dorothy noncom-
What do you taker' asked one of
the men. looking at Dorothy.
"Why-why-Oh, anything. I think
I'd like chocolate frappe."
a loud laugh from the other three
greeted this remark.