Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-08-10
Plant Of Vacationer en- Return to
Own Hearthstone.
POETS ARE ALL KIDDING"
Nothing in Their "Dope" Songs About
Joys Of Getting Back From
Foreign Strands.

| 1t is SO fine-saith one of the most bro
| midic Of all the bromides-.to be home once
| more. Oh, so fine.
| Home from the sea Is the sailor. and
! the hunter home from the HILL Hted Rob-
| ert Louis Stevenson. who never stayed home
/ at all. but spent most of his time prowtng
| the hyacinthine seas.
And all the others of us. the atomic ones,
Tilt to about the same essence and effect.
| IL good deal less musically. Home! To
get back home. To regain the serene joys,
| the hyaline hours, the little periods OF
placid contemplation, the-the-er-
But just moment. Yesterday l met a
man who had just got back home. He gave
| me his views about getting back home
am not going to steal his stuff. l am 60
ing to set 1t down he said 1t. without
| garniture establishment. Sullen dis
| content slumbered in the eyes of this just
| back man with the Sun-peeled nose.
| rs 1t not delightful to get back home
| again?' he repeated after us. in reply TO
| our idiotic question. Then he took an Ajax
| attitude. pulled his squared shoulders back,
shook his sunburnt name and Numbered:
| 1T is-not!'
| Thus rebuffed, we didn't dare to ask him
| to elucidate, but he was right there with
| the calculation without our asking.
| According to what can find out about
! Them he observed in choppy way that
proclaimed his ennui none of these fell
| lows that have done the rosy writing about
| the getting back home thing has ever been
| limited to vacation of one calendar
month. with or without pay. They've been.
| for the most part, chaps whove ambled
| away from the old place in their early
youth. to pull up eventually on some strand
plain, or oasis where they wore burnooses
| or chaste set of tigers teeth. or nothing
at all that would save them from the po-
| lice of their own lands: and. thus pleasant
| ly planted. they'd take up the Tyre, or the
| tara-patch fiddle. or the tom-tom gourds
and sing their longing-for-hom songs.
knowing, in the very article OF their sing
| ing, that they wouldn't go home again II
| they had a piece of magical carpet where
upon to make the aerial cruise.
Did you ever hear of one of EN- dying
| in his bed at home?
You never did. They knew better"
Just Hypocrites.
"They were just amiable yet foxy bugs
who enjoyed the sight. sound and aroma of
| a gentle melancholy. that's all. and they
knew that the home thing was the correct
string to play upon. They themselves
couldn't have been dragged home by wild
| horses. They'd rather have been torn by
dogs than go home They had sized up
They knew all about home And they never
had so much fun in their lives as they ex-
perienced when they put about nine thou
| and undulating plain between them and
home, and then, grabbing their vibrant
harps, began to Groom their sobful. sacchar
| inc, Observation-Disclosures lays
about home.
| But all the time they were winking at
| their reflections in the Narcissus pool. In
them. home rhymed with 'yawn.' But
they sure were the deceitfu clips, and they
| wouldn't acknowledge it right out loud
Delightful to get back home hey? You'd
| hot hahava and then ask how L
! love my teacher
II got in at II o'clock last night. The
train slipped in before / knew it, because !,
about the eyes of the last girl l met
think it was the last-no, the one before
| the last-up in the mountains. at the Old
| White.
How natural the old tepid air seemed
and how strangely familiar were the little
crystalline bubbles of perspiration that
| broke out on my forehead before. Juggling
my bag, I'd walked ten steps In my old
home town! And how naturally painted
for breath before I got to the exit gate at
| the dreamy month in the translucent, why
air Of the tradition-haunted Old White. and
| when stepped out on deserted Pennsyl-
vania avenue, how fragrant with seething
asphaltum and things that noble thorough
| fare did smell, ye-eh! Home again!
And how naturally and reminiscently
my heels did sink into the yielding asphalt
| ing for yellow carl
There wasn't anybody worth mentioning
on the noble, thoroughfare at that hour.
| They were all at home. They, l reflected.
| liked home They had to like 1t. Me, too.
| 1 going to have to like 1t for another
eleven months.
..rhe only persons on the yellow car that
| finally came rumbling up were three young
| colored gentlemen on their way home. l
presumed They talked very loudly and
laughed boisterously. full of animation and
ecstacy, l figured it. because they were go
ing home. Oh, home!
The Realization.
81 sat I'D for-ard. and took off my hat to
| let the soothing simeon made by the rapid
motion of the CART was going all of three
miles a week-cool my fevered brow. and I
thought of the little cirrus clouds that were
flirting with the moon up In the mountains
just about then. and of how that orbed
maiden. with white fire laden. was even
then gazing indulgently down upon girls
who had shawls wrapped around their
shoulders up yonder where Ia peenIano
then how the huge. overwhelming realza-
ton was borne in upon me that here was
home again!
"As I trudged the two squares from the
car to my two-room fiat a few big drops of
rain hit the pavement: and now II nttea IN
with my memory of home things to hear
those big drops Kissing on the pavement
lust for all the life as If they'd hit the top
of a pancake griddle! Oh. was home again
all right knew that!
"Opening my fat door with the key that
I'd been carrying around and venomously
hating for the month I'd been away. the
sitting Japanesy effiuvia of the hall mat
ting came up and hit me in the face like
the hot breath Of something living and suf-
fering I switched on the lights and threw
open the windows and glanced out upon the
leaf-checkered street. with the hot eye of
the glazing arc light across the way impal-
ing me, and the only sound-which was
enough-was that of dngy boy numbering
by and whistling a potpourri consisting of
Home Again and Back to Baltimore, and
/ thought Of the sloe-eyed and violet-lamp
ed girls that were even then snuggled back
in shadowy corners of the mountain hotel,
grooming their little hearts away. bless 'em.
and then turned around and looked at the
pictures on the walls-and despised EN-
and at my pipe rack-and hated it-and at
all the rest of the gear and contraptions or
home: and then l just pumped into chair
and realized right down to the ground that
here I was, home once more! yep pack
home! I felt just If could burst INTO
tears upon the slightest provocatlon. sure
did Wasn't home again? You bet l was!
And the sense of my homeness certainly
did almost affect me to tears, It's the truth!
Il plunged into cold tub, and thought
of tbe limpid whipping, tree-overhung
mountain stream that | wouldn't be getting
into on the following morning, usual.
and how | did feel like presenting a silver
living sledge to those fellows that had