Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-07-13
HOMES OF OTHER DAYS

! Said reflective man of forty who has
| had his bumps
The houses that you used to live in
| do you ever fall to thinking about them
| in quiet moments-in the middle of the
| night. say, when. in turning over, strange,
whimsy ideas pop into fellows head; do
| you ever fall to wondering whether those
| houses you used to occupy are still ten
| anted, and by what sort Of folks, and
| whether that crack in the dining room
mantelpece of the little plant you lived
in-let's see. yes. it was fourteen years
ago-whether that crack has been re-
| paired yet or not-and all that?
We'll, do. Not often. but occasionally.
| And there's something indescribably and
| indefinably melancholy in these vagrom
| speculations as to what's going on and
| how things look in the little old dumps in
| which you used to hang up your hat. When
| you actually come face to face with these
| places after lapse of whole lot Of years.
| you feel If you are meeting up with a
| ghost. and to your view the place you
| thus confront swims in VerItable MINI
bus of suggestions reaching back into the
| faint mist of the drifted years.
Il had that experience last week in CHI
cago. A good many years ago. when the
whole game was a struggle and life itself
| warfare. so to speak. l lived and work
ed in that big wen of a town. without ever
| poor there, and I wasn't behaving any
| too well at that particular period of my
! life. either, so that, save for person
rather intimately concerned with my exist
ence there. l never had much of a glow
OF tenderness in mentally reverting to the
portion of my younger manhood that was
passed in Chicago.
Well, when / went to Chicago the other
day l had with a letter from Wash
ington woman to her daughters husband.
She had asked me to call upon the young
| folks who used to live in this town. and
cheer them up with little of the gossip
of Washington.
so. one hazy. mellow afternoon last week
I took the Cottage Grove avenue car on
Wabash avenue to go over to 18th street ,et
that formerly lived in Washington have
| their little home Now. L don't know
why it didn't occur to me. when took
Side. that I, too, had lived close to s9th
street. away back yonder. in the gone
time. but it didn't. Maybe my mind was
on something else, or maybe 1t was pc
ferent places since. that the 9th street
address didn't. until 1 left the car. have
any especial significance for me-
But, when l left the car at 18th street
and began to walk westward for a little
piece, l gradually swept by a curious
sense of the familiarity of the block l was
walking on. / didn't suddenly Identify any
particular house or landmark; but the col
lective scene, to put it that way, the as
pect up and down the street, and the
I houses on either side all masse / together.
bore q look of dim naturalneSs that quickly
sent me pious'hing around in a more acute
consciousness for an explanation. Then
] suddenly remembered. And, rememner-
ing not without a certain catch at the
throat. l crossed over at the corner OF 81.
Lawrence avenue to look at the little house
l had lived in.
Il lived in that house with my first wife
she passed hence not long afterWard-ln the
years 1891 and 1892. You can scarcely I'M
agine the acuteness of the shock when l
strolled over and stood before that little
yellow painted frame house. with the tiny
porch in front There were TO Let signs
hanging in all OF the windows. The house
had decrept tumble-down look about It,
Rank grass and Unison weed stroVe for the
mastery on our once tidy little lawn. me
street was very quiet, and STOOD there ana
! looked at the little old place for long.
! long time. Ny second marriage was and is
| a happy one. and yet. dye know, just
couldn't help but experience a certain down,
ness at the heart as l stood there and
was. just little girl, and l was pretty
young then myself-too young to know
! anything.
Il almost expected. standing there re-
| garding the dreafy looking, untenanted yell
! low house. to see the little woman pop her
merry. hopeful face out Of one of the front
| windows and ask me what had made me SO
late in getting home for dinner; Atter a
! while / fell to wondering why l didn't hear
any guitar music. Because. after she had
| finished all of her homework and had got
! herself all spck and span against my re-
! turn home, she get down her guitar re-
| r,en,ber | bought it for her for two and a
| half at a pawnshop-and pick rich, melan-
| choly chords out Of it and Groom to herself
and when the windows were open, Id hear
| her as / came trudging down the street
ba and then. VIXEN she saw me,
| shed jump up and run TO the front door TO
! meet me, with the Wheezy OLD guitar sun
| in her hands and l could fairly see her
| that day last week standing there on the
| foolish little make-believe Of porch. In
| her tidy blue Bingham dress. with her en-
| thusiastic tale of the perfectly grand things
shed fixed for our dinner.
! Then too standing there. l could see
| her sitting on the arm of our wonder
| full bought e-nstallment-plan motifs
| chair in front of the tiny crate rre In the
| parlor on the bitter winter nights ana chat-
! tering away about what gorgeous things
! were going to happen to us when got my
pay raised from seventeen to twenty-five a
| week and how she wanted TO get some
| swiss curtains for the tiny front pedroom
| unstairs and how she just didn't mind hav-
| ing to buy round steaks at all, because she
! always thought round steaks had better
and more sure-enough steaky havor than
| the expensive steaks. and how l ought 10
| he ashamed to have those four gray hairs
| IN on top of my head at my age. and
| would | like an oId-fashioned pot roast for
| dinner tomorrow. and some time next week
| couldn't / take an afternoon off and We
| 90 to Kohl & Middleton's dime museum on
| Clark street-and all that. Eheu! man. II
! all came rushing back to me as stood
| there in front of the little old snack. ana
| I guess l must have trudged on along the
| street with my head down, for was heaVy
| with the regret that hadn't behaved pet
| ter when that helpful, merry-souled. hlsh.
| hearted little child-woman was alongside OIL
| me, and that 1 hadn't given her better
| chance for her white marble.
| Then not long ago. l passed oy ram
! sbarkle fat house on 22d street in New
| york that brought back whole string OF
| recollections of the imbecile. pin-headed-
| HOY DAYS before ! was ever married at all.
| IFS a tenement house now, but back IN the
| late eighties it was pretty nifty sort or
| an APARTMENT house. Four OF us mad nat
| there-two struggling pen-and-ink arusts'
! a teIasrapher and myself. 1t was one riot
| ous rough house dump. sure enough. that
| fat We had an old Virginia NANNY VINO
| used to fry us ham and eggs and make US
| haniacks when we'd come careerng IN at
| 2 in the morning. We were supposed 10 De
! living on the cooperative plan. but only
| one man in the crowd of us would work at
| a time. Just as long as one feloWd Work
! the other three'd loaf around the nat.
! .When the one working man I'd strike
! and the bottled beer 'ud run out and the
| mammy's wages became due some other