Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-08-10
IS IT NOT GREAT TO GET
HOME? YES, 1T IS, NOT.

ano iinpenetraoe Stiffness | heard the sill
~, ~" oells OF Old ST. Aloysius tallyrng Off
.ie auaster hour and then ten or ffteen
Thousand life-weary cats in a nearby alley
began TO tell and 10 fuss about n ana
thought OF the breeze-swept mountain cot
tage Ia left behind, close 10 the Ienn,ny
emerald cascade. and of how NV rsra,
hours there had been soothed by the aeolian
music OF low-laughing water and murnur
ing tree. and gave the pillow four or Ave
Lunches Just as II I'd begun to train to meet
tommy Burns next week and | remember
an. now acutely / emembered-that |
was back home again,
"hen awoke this morning-after bay-
,hs pu. IN FULLY two hours sleep. such was
.he strangely disquiet!nr eject ~ heipy
nome again. didn't know ubere 7 was 60
pI'' FOR the previous month YOU see Ia
oeeh accustomed to being awakened long
- =. CLOCK by the careless rollick-
ing, heart-tree laughter o. girls with MAJ
cei-waved hair, early risers who wcrn al
ready tripping over the dewy grass ~ IN,
lawn, pretending to hunt for four-leayed
t NO slI Wni!e they furtvely watched for
the phonily ind ferent boys on the cottage
ana notel porches to JOIN them This mora
ing however. | was slammed out OF tho ola
nome punk by the waliop'ng of my ianitor-
h,s s' .D Dales Tor my rooms-on my door. and
ms BOSS. Is yo done home ag'in? Ye-eh.
then l knew where I was-home, There
wasn't any mistake about r. Ia often
ureained up In the mountains on my vaca-
ha HllaA pgtfh
strange and inexplicable thrills Of tri,,,nnb
I,ot 10 say glee. when came To and fnnnJ
that II had all been but a dream Rut mis-
trol ,lhs. was home all square enough II
nun take me long TO find il out Tbara
was mat Asti-headed girl picture staring NJ
me Oh my bedroom wall-that illumination
OF an Impossible idealization OF pIrlbooJ
ma. my maiden aunt had made me accent
as birthday gift because she knew 7 ba,aS
ASH heads as / do chapped llps: there vs.
,he framed yard OF pictured yfolets tbat
llaa 10 clap up somewhere on my walls bo
cause my good mother whose Idle, ~, q =, g.
mat chromo entitled I'm grandmam,na
now. gave 1t to me: there was-but what's
tne use? They were all there. the old bomo
t tns: an staring me In my hot. feverish
race; all reminding me that I was one
more at home; all giving me the ,amsh
aoout II. chuckling over it. screaming and
loluing their sfdes over 1t. fairly rolling Ali
over . the place and groveling in a very bys-
terra or gloatfulness over it-that NO.
oack home, home. home. and couIln't liz
myself N'"u heip
More Realization.
got I'D and dressed. and moocSai down
10 the cafe for some breakfast and tna
-FOUR or five fatheads OF my ACQUAINTANCE
that met there remarked that II IVA.
pretty warm. but did 1 think II was "a
warm as 1t was last week-the pin-IIds tbav
didn't know that I'd been away nj all ar,
IL lrritated me-and then I numbered over
10 Where L take the car. breathing OF thai
OLD FAMILIAR fragrance OF the bubbIing con-
CRETE and the three or four fellows of NV
acquaintance that met on the car asked
n .,s was thinking of taking a little run
OUT OF town anywhere this summer dog
gone EN-. and then they proceeded fo tell
each other how they hadn't had so much "a
wink or sleep for five nights. and the
sun focused all OF the rays il couId ms
ter on me In the exposed seat that bnd
10 take In the open car and I tbougbt ~
the chaps uD wonder in the mountains
smoking their morning cigars and pipes and
standing out In the open In the sunlIebt
SO 8 to get their backs warm and 7 wondar
ed II the sun UP there and the one that was
clustering me down here could be one and
home. was "'"
AT the transfer station where 7 get off IN
20 10 my office lot of sad and perspirey
women with market baskets stood about
, r,o 9l 1neir foreheads with damp little
Wads and wisps of handkerchiefs, and the
men were carrying their hats in their
hands and looking as II they were only
gong on with the business of life because
they weren't sure of their dope as to the
next world: and I thought of the morning
poker game of about that corresponding
hour in the bachelors clubhouse on PARA
oise row up Wonder at the old White Sui
phur In the mountains and OF the band ont
IN front OF the clubhouse. in the pavilion
OF the wide. sweeping, undulating lawn
paying the wooze music. with the occa-
sioiai ueep-throated songs of the black no
from work. and then. drifting across the
understanding grass. the strangely-moyinp
notes or the ten-cent mouth organ pIaved
by the boy who dishes out the water at the
sulphur springs. and the soft. shaded, curl
ously liquid voices Of some of the fine old
southern boys who sat in at that Paradise
row poker game: and, all of this in NV
mind as l clomped up the steps of nv
once, don't you ever dream that I didn't
remember that / was back home once more
And at the Office
Then. reaching the office, the way the
bunch Hello. old-man-ned' me- and how
they told me that, after all. about the mid
die of August was really the best time to
go away from Washington for the summer
vacation; how the chaps who were just
about to go Off on their leaves that day Sc
cretly gloated over me. gave me the laugh
out of the corners of leering, triumphant
eyes: how the old lady with the ear trum-
pet in my Office told me that the weather
prophets were saying that August and Sep
TENDER were going to be frightfully hot
months in this town. and then hid her
wrinkled map behind a stack of books SOS
she could give me the secret smirk; how
the work was heaped up on my desk-the
desk seemed hot to my touch-like the noon
supply of ready-made sandwiches at a dairy
lunch: and how
well. this will be about plenty I'm
home again right enough. heaven help me-
But If you or anybody else again asks me
IL like 1t, I'm going to be there with
right-mitt pivot wallop that'll make the
Jeffries stuff of that kind look like the left
hind foot kick of a two-inch chameleon by
comparison. and you hear what I'm Assay
ing about being home again. don't your
That's what the man said. without orna-
mentations or fxings. Honest, he did.
Wonder II there can be anything In It?
CLARENCE L. CULLEN