Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1909-10-24
Around the CITY

woman with glimpse of red gold hair
showing under a fur atrOcity that had
swallowed her head to the ears.
a woman who was walking behind
hurried up to catch her by the arm and
exclaim:
What on earth made you get such a
hideous hat.''
The fur-toque young woman came to an
austerely indignant stand. The other
woman apologized.
please pardon me. L supposed you to
be friend OF mine.''
Must be rather exciting to have you
for friend
The austerely indignant one made her
remark in the tone that all women who
have had their hats belittled will under
stand. The other apparently enjoyed the
rebuke.
Honest, / wouldn't have been rude to
you for-anything. But l won't take 1t
back. 1t is an utrocity. Why. l could
barely see a thread or two of your
splendid hair-and l dare say you're got
a desirable forehead.
cause. I'm such a plugugly that the more
I'm covered the better Tor all concerned.
But if 1 had pretty hair do you suppose
I'd hide 1t under a bushel like that? Not
much!"
The austere one thawed out under these
compliments and graciously fished for
more.
Il hope your friend isn't very homely,
since 1 am so much like her"
why. she's perfectly stunning! Pretty
skin and violet eyes and red gold hair
waves and tumbles of it,
The indignant one smiled sweet forgive
ness and presently tripped onward as II,
some way, she were treadlng air.
And the plug-ugly woman said to her
self yet not to herself, either:
Dear recording angel, don't make my
bad mark blacker than you have to.
hadn't the heart to tell that poor, plain
thing that the resemblance was only
matter of backs.
Flattery is so sweet when you don't get
much of it. I'm in a position to know.
Concerning horses:
A woman who likes to think up things
to herself was going along North Capitol
street. Standing by q curb were two
detected old horses hitched to a dray
piled with lumber. Each horse was or
the brown of badly cured tobacco and
on each front between the eyes was q
splash of white hairs.
The woman. having in memory a long
ago bay pony with white star on his
forehead, stopped to say friendly word.
Both old horses looked at her and one
of them hicked his ears. They were
listening.
Then the woman opened up a CONVEX
sation:
i've been counting stars this morning.
Out of twenty-three horses, fourteen Of
heads. 1 wish you could tell me why.
II used to think a star was just a
beauty spot. but since I've learned to
know that sorrows bring gray hairs I've
been wondering if-maybe-the white
marks on your foreheads mean that way
back in your long heads you have brains
enough to know and suffer because your
poor lives are all work and no play.
The horse that had ficked his ears
proceeded to jerk his head up and down
Maybe he was just pulling at his reins
But the woman took it for an answer.
Thank you for telling me, and now
must be off; wonder DO you you know enc .n the
in the church steeple-that hurries me
on?"
The woman waited, but neither horse
made a sign. They did not know about
clocks. So she explained:
THE clock is the worlds master. 1t is
the universal creed of time. All nations
fight and pray and work and feast &C.
cording to the hour of day. Sometimes
its. hands bring happiness. Sometimes
they cut like a dagger or lash like
whip
Both horses jerked their heads up and
down. They knew about whips.
Then when the woman had pulled up
two tufts of grass from tree box ana
started the horses to munching she
said to them, by way of parting:
keep on bearing patiently the heavy
loads and long, rough ways and don't mind
because man bars you from his heaven,
for-this is secret between us-man
does not hold the key"
Then the master of the team lounged
out from a restaurant and the woman 8
master doomed out a command that 1t
was time for her to be on her way.
A man and q woman who were strolling
along Market space Friday night paused
to look at a book display in window
ablaze with lights.
interest was represented by a box con-
tanning a set of volumes in dark leather
and gilt. At least his was the first name
she read aloud.
"The, Seven Sons!''
| The man, in his turn, eyed the col
lection until he found the object of her
interest.
Seven Sons, nothing! What's gone
wrong with your eyes? That's Stevens
Sons, as plain as print
They were well dressed and beauti-
fully scrubbed couple, with presumably
intelligence enough to know Robert Louis
Steyenson's name on book when they
You can't always go by looks. can
you?
A hunk of man. flashy in dress and
with the convivial air of one who does
not live on bread alone, was going down.
town with larky sort Of comrade, who
was telling some story that made both
laugh.
AT a crossing they came to a battered
up creature with pair of wooden pins
for legs. He was kneeling because he
couldn't stand. And he was peddling
pencils.
With app" -ently half an eye to this
| brother the wooden pins. and still
laughing until his vest bulged between
each button, the hunk Of a man went
in his pocket and dropped some money
| into the peddlers hat. He had not at all
the virtu6us air of one who dispenses
public charity. He just acted as II help
ing his fellOw-man were q chronic habit,
like-welI, say like beer.
1t was a small happening. of course.
but it was also large enough to show
that the stealthy tread method Of doing
business is not entirely usurped by the
sleuth and the politician man.
There is, for instance, gumshoe good
| less.
Ohio to Raise Prison Tobacco.