Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1907-08-25

I the corners of his Havana you are good
gang of scouts and certainly have shown
true friendship for me this torrid evening.
In return l want to tell you the story OF
this days doings. Now that l have the
proper perspective l can even smile while
retrospecting upon the events that led up
to my collapse In yon armchair an hour or
so ago. I have spent many WOODY days IN
my time and have been mixed up with INCL
dents that have run the gamut of the ludl-
CrOus, pathetic, sad. sorrowful, joyous
gloomy. tragic and bilious, but III be ever
lastingly gosh-swiggled If l ever bucked
such a combination as nature and foul
friends Of Plutonic Park stacked up against
me today"
ut listens like something good OBJ
served Billy. Tom, keep US supplied; we
don't want to interrupt this
Leave US hear thy story, DiCky Lubs, y
said another with playful affection. Then
while the little circle waited gray-blue
rings ceilingward, or slipped silently from
frosted glasses the narrator unfolded his
yarn.
This is story of temperature. tempera-
ment and temper. Let us not linger on the
first-named. You are all aware that this
has been the hottest day of the year if not
doing; in a lake of perspiration 1t is
wonder that 1 wasn't drowned during the
night. After half an hour in tub of the
coolest water that the hydrant would fur
nish felt able to come down to breakfast.
I found my wife, sister-in-law and the two
little nieces-in-law dallying with iced cam
taloupe. l toyed with several melons and
felt nearly human.
1T were we'll to explain here that sister,
in-law, whose name is Glyda, is paying us
an indefinite visit while her artist husband
is abroad making copies of old masters and
acquiring the French method That is, l
have heard some talk to that effect, but
not having the artistic temperament myself
l may be making a bull by butting in with
art talk. But the artistic temperament
thing is very strong in my wife's family.
She is herself near-artist and this sister
of hers is nearer still. Her husband is
really quite the cheese, l understand and
paints real pictures that no one buys just
because they are the real artistic goods.
At least that's what my wife and sister-in-
law say. The two kids what might be
expected of a union of twin artist souls
sensitive, nervous, excitable youngsters,
one eleven and the other nine years old
This completes the cast of my domestic
drama. with the exception of the cat and
the cook. The cat, a slim Maltese of
feminine persuasion, was raised by the kids
and brought to US when they broke up
housekeeping for fathers voyage. Associa-
ton has inculcated this feline with the
artistic temperament which in a cat mani
tests itself in vile temper, a disdainful
daintiness of appetite and a passion for
catching freflies under the silver radiance
of the summer moon in a garden of roses
and peoples. The cook and myself are the
only materialists of the household. She
could cook the grandest waftles and roast
a capon to please a princes palate. Oh,
she was the dearest sweetest little cook
that | have ever been able to corral
Why the past tense?" asked Billy, catch
ing the darker note that ht,I crept into
the narrator's voice. rs sne Gyad?"
Il am coming to that. Don't interrupt.
Well after breakfast this morning l de-
cided to stay home and keep cool and
rest as there was no need of my going
downtown The morning hours passed