Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1910-02-13
Around the CITY

A man was walking alone in the dusk
He was q large. solid man-so large and
so solid that he lowered up like q ships
timber tree. His vest bulged bit and or
his face was the smiling serenity that
comes from kindness and good cheer.
As he cut across the asphalt toward
Franklin Park the man caught the at
tention Of another man, who said to the
woman with him:
There goes President Taft
The woman knew better:
Indeed it isn't, theni That mans too
tall for Taft. And he isn't fat enough.
Why, Taft is twice as fat as that man.
I've seen his picture in the papers lots
Of times and he's as round as barrel
Which shows what cartoons can do.
She was young and rather pretty, and
with her comfy cloth suit she wore a
fur turban with q side bunch Of far
reaching plumes. And she sat In q cor
ner OF a car reading q book that lay
open on her muff. 1t was a poem book.
judging by the cover and erratic lengths
of fine type, and the young woman made
frequent underscores and marginal notes
with a fountain pen, all filagree silver,
times comes for 1t to be cleaned. She
was not convincing in her literary pose,
one reason being that she read through
close meshed veil. Anyhow, 1t must
have been q most unusual book, poem or
prose, for the young woman alternately
smiled and frowned. and made notes at
the rate OF every half second. Every
time the car stopped to take on some
passengers, she raised her eyes as If to
IMPRESS upon her memory some beauti-
she were being duly admired.
And all the way from Capitol Hill to
The Star building the far-reaching
feathers insisted upon binding the pas
senger who sat next.
But the passenger who sat next wasn't
literary. She was just a woman who
earns her living by writing.
Two other women In the same car.
They were In the shopping bag class and
gossiped with good-natured loudness
happened to notice a passenger opposite
"a plain woman, who seemed to be think
ing of something that had put On her
face the expression we call looking
inward
The woman who had noticed put a
hand. red and glazed from honest work,
before her mouth and whispered with
shrillness that could be heard all over
the car:
Say. Mrs. Blank, look at that woman's
suppose It's a mother mark or dirt?"
"Sh!-woman! Don't you know what
that is? She's been stamped"
"Lor. | never heard'er sucher thing!
Go on and tell me-"
'Why. you silly: amt you never heard
how Catholics get stamped on Ash We'd
nesday? I went to church once with
young Teller I used to keep company
with-you remember Ed, don't your
poor Teller. he's in heaven. II berg good
could take him there-and I sat In
pew while him and about thousand
other men and women knelt In turns
at long railin' while priest took some
ashes and stamped each one Of EN- on
the forehead. That's what 1t is-shes
just been stamped"
If the woman whose brow was marked
with a tiny gray cross heard her oppo-
site neighbors she made no sign.
Perhaps she was needing the warning
that her church had just voiced:
Remember, man, that thou art dust
and unto dust thou shalt return"
The servant ploblem, like the medieval
shield. has two sides. and the view you
get depends upon whether you are dis
GUESSING 1t in your parlor or on the street
at 6 o'clock In the morning.
A woman who was brisking along to |
early church had the street to herself |
until at a corner two yong colored women |
turned from a side pavement and walked |
ahead. They. too, were discussing the !