Oxford Democrat. [volume] (Paris, Me.) 1833-1933, 1908-12-29
q gloomy "B" child sitting on shaw

AS If for a reward of virtue, just as
I had disposed Of my leavings and
stuck the roses into my belt, the last
of the luggage arrived. There were
two custom house men near to choose
from, and. as Pve heard, in choosing
between two evils It's better to choose
the less, | smiled beseechingly at the
smaller man, who had just crammed
q pile Of lace blouses into the box of
lady with nervous prostration.
Whether he was sated with cruelty.
or whether he was naturally Of an an
gelic disposition, shall probably never
know now, but the fact remains that
instead Of turning out the 6end I'd
been led to expect, he was one Of the
most considerate men I've ever met
He wouldn't even let me unlock my own
boxes. but took the keys and opened
them for me himself. Didn't an ex-
ecutioner braid the hair Of some queen
whose head he was going to chop Off?
I must look the incident up when |
have time.) Anyway. thought Of 1t
when the custom house man was being
SO polite, but the analogy didn't go
any farther. for my head never came
of at all, and two Of the boxes re-
mained unopened.
you're English, aren't you" he
asked. and when said yes, and that
I was only OH n short visit, he treated
my belongings as II they were sacred
II he disturbed anything. he laid IT
back nicely. keeping up running con
versation rs he went on | told him
that English women might bring
home all the pretty clothes they liked
from other countries. and that con
sidered 1t most ungallant in such n
chivalrous nation as America to deny
ladies' few Paris dresses.
"Do you happen to know. miss
what's the income tax in your coun
try?" he asked, tenderly putting back
some yellow hairpins which had fallen
out Of box Of mine.
"Dear me. no." exclaimed. But |
think it's sometimes more than shill.
ing In the pound. I've heard my
brother say so. and rs for the death
duties, it's more than your life's worth
to die"
"A-ahw said the nice man. I'VE
haven't got any income tax on this
side, and folks can die in peace wlen.
ever they please. guess that kind OF
evens things up, don't it,
I didn't know what to answer, so !
thanked him for his kindness. and We
parted the best Of friends.
Mrs. Ess Kay appeared so quickly
afterward that 1t almost seemed ~ il
she must have been lying in wait. She
was looking pale and shattered. and
Louise, following close behind. was
positively haggard. Only Sally had
weathered the storm without hcins
outwardly the worse for wear, but
even she didn't look as good nat;,rrG
as usual.
"How have you got along. you poor.
deserted darling ailevtioaately In
quired Mrs. Ess Kay, undismayed by
fixed gaze from Sally. which appar
emily signlfed reproach.
TT wasn't very bad. and I've quite
enjoyed myself" | replied, forgetting
some tedious moments in the light .,
others not tedious and hoping that the
roses in my belt might pass unnoticed
Fortunately they did. otherwise !
should have been in difficulty. for !
should have hated to vulgarize the lit
tie episode by putting it into story
form for Mrs. Ess Kay. and presum
ably roses have not been taught to
grow wild on the New York docks. nj.
though they say Americans are so very
luxurious in their tastes oEe wol!i
hardly be surprised ut anything.
A beautiful electric carraGr. bigger
than a brougham. was waiting for us.
and we left Louise. with butler or
some other manServant ont Of livery.
to wrestle with the luggage and bring
It in cabs (Which they called hacks
up to Mrs. Ess Kays house in New
York, where l knew she meant to stop
for few days before going on TO New
port.
The minute we drove away from the
docks I began TO notice dozens OF
things which made me tremendously
conscious that | was in foreign coun-
try. One would think. as so many OF
these people were English. o.. anyway.
British, before they were Americans
that their buildings and everything
else would he enough like to remind
one Of home. But each street we turned
into showed me that this isn't at all
true I'm New York. There are bits like
Paris-at least you think so on sn.
perfcial glance-but nothing In the
faintest degree Ike London.
Something in the air. too, made me
feel excited. as It does In Paris. Sparks
Of electricity snapped In my veins, and
I had presentiment Of interesting
things that must surely happen.
I've always been very sensitive TO
smells, which can make me Joyful or
miserable. just as music does. Vic
says I oughtn't to tell people this. as
1t signifies I'm still in close touch
with brute creation. But don't much
mind II am. for 50 maay animals are
nicer than we arc-dogs and horses, for
instance; and then one has to acknowl.
edge, whether one likes or not, that
monkey is a kind Of poor relation.
Each place I've ever visited has its
own smell for me and even houses
and people. | would know the smell
Of Battlemead Towers, If I were taken
there by winding ways, with my eyes
bllndfolded. It's the smell Of old oak
and potpourrl. and books and chintz,
and autumn leaves and pine trees,
mixed together. Mother smells like
u tea rose and Vic like wax doll.
London has rich, heavy scent, which
makes you feel as II you had great
deal of money and wanted to spend It,
but not in hurry. The smell of Paris
makes you want to laugh and clap
your hands and 80 to the theater. The
smell Of Rome makes you feel as If
you wished to be very beautiful and
move to the slow accompaniment OF
a magnificent church organ, with the
vox humana stop drawn out But
New York-the smell Of New York!
How shall l describe the sensation 1t
gave me, as Mrs. Ess Kay's electric
carriage smoothly spun me up town?
The heavy feeling Of homesickness
which I had had on the ship for the
last few days was gone, and instead
| felt Il wild sense Of exhilaration, as