The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1910-04-30
THE EVENING STORY
Real Commencement.
(By Jeanne o. Loizeaux.l


one forgot the latter for the former.
All the world-save one-remembered
the former. The scholar could not re-
member she was a pretty girl, because
somehow, through his absorption in his
studies he seemed not aware of her.
He consulted her like an encyclopedias
for bare facts connected with a thesis
concerning itself with botany biology
and the beginning of life 1t was i'm
portant The girl had borne his blind
ness since December, when she had
begun her work. And now it was May,
and still he saw, vaguely at that, only
the librarian in her.
One gloomy morning he was wait
ing when she came, barely on time, to
open the doors. Then he walked
straight to the desk, waited until she
removed her hat and asked for GER
tain book. He always did that. She
walked down a book aisle and he fol-
lowed. Her cheeks were fresh from
the spring breeze; her step was light
with youth and health: her dark hair
curled lovingly about her little ears.
He had time to see these things while
she took down the volume. but his
heart was with the beginnings of life.
His thesis must be finished for COM
mencement. Therefore his living had
become a mere matter of reading all
day, save for three hurried meals, and
writing all night, save for the five or
six grudgtng hours he gave to sleep.
Now he took the tome from her,
made an absent little bow Of thanks,
and went to his favorite corner to
study. She let him go without picking
from his sleeve a long thread, as she
wished to do. She would also have
enjoyed sewing a button on his un-
brushed coat, and-sweeping back his
heavy unkempt, fair hair from a fore
head white and unlined save for the
scholarly scowl between the brows. AS
he settled himself she took her seat
behind the desk, and noted the stoop
in his broad shoulders, shoulders
which, like the mop of hair, belonged
to the unexpected halfback in him.
her nerves. and she determinedly
turned her mind to other matters.
At the same time, it is provoking
for the best looking man in town to
be seemingly b1indI It IS especially
provoking to a very pretty and adj
mired girl. It is worse when she is
of motherly nature, and sees him
go about half-cared for, and uncon-
scious of anything but an idea. She
yearned to bring him back to his
senses. Had he known whether his
breakfast was sufficient? Did he know
he needed a spring suit? Did he know
on the hills, and that in a sunny val
ley beyond the town, spring beauties
and violets smiled and waited? OF
course not! He was searching blindly
in books for the beginnings of life, or
some such unsatisfying quest. Just be-
fore he went home at noon he lifted
his eyes and met her gaze. A burning
blush devoured her. He saw the blush
and wondered. but did not connect it
with himself.
He came back in the afternoon, and
she had to ring the bell twice at clos
ing time to get him out of his dream
of work. Everybody else had gone long
ago into the sweet sunshine. The
scholar shut his book and, Fastening
to the door where she stood waiting
with her hat on to close up, had the
grace to murE1ur an apology. He also
closed the door for her and walked
of doors, but at the first corner he
lifted his hat and left her. She vowed
angrily that she would not think of
him again-he was-well, not boorish
but he might have gone a little far
Their with her!
The next morning he came in Just
after she had opened the library and
while she was still arranging in a. little
vase the spring beauties she had found
on the hill the evening before. She
was naughty this morning and feigned
at first not to see him. He leaned on
the desk and nut his face down to her
est smile in the world curved his lips.
"How-freshl" he breathed. It was
his first unnecessary remark to her.
Then he asked for another book She
got it for him stif1y, and without a
word. She would do nothing for him
save what her official position required
which did not include looking at
him where he sat in his corner, his long
fingers tugging at the rough blonde
hair, his scowling gaze bent on the
page before him. He WINGED in an
annoyed manner at the sun. which had
crept round and laid glaring finger
upon his book. but he was not aware
that lowering the shade was the thing
to be done. The librarian saw, and
after watching him first in amusement,
then in vexatlon, she tiptoed from the
a - n
the long string of the shade. This, she
argued to herself, was her official duty.
The jerk brought the shade loose from
the roller, crashing and cracking
down upon her. She gave little cry.
The scholar woke up, stared, left his
book and went to her rescue. She was
covered with dust. and a little scratch
ON her hand showed red globule of
blood. He took out a big handker
chief and busted her Off, hoping she
was not hurt, taking her hand as he
might have taken child's, to look at
the scratch. He pronounced the wound
nothing. and told her she should never
Jerk at a shade-they were always
trea cherous. He got hold of the one in
question, rolled it I'D, and then went
back to his study. She waited a mo-
1nent. Then she marched up to him
and said in a low tone:
you should have sense enough not
to read with the sun in your eyes"
Then she marched to her desk with
her head high and left him staring
What business was It Of hers If the
sun was in his eyes? He was trifle
bewildered, and the matter occurred to
him again that night while he was be-
ginning the last quarter of his thesis.
commencement was but week away.
The thing must be NEUTRALITY-SUSPICIOUS. his
fellowship to Harvard depended on 1t.
1t was q fellosvshtp or,-tds fathers
business. Somehow for the arst tA1ne