Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-06-25

yander todes de bay, whar l was riZ in
NAH slave times. Amt noner dem men al
de wharfe got de instance to try an fool
me wit irresponsible crab meat. because
bofe sight and smell. I knows crab by
heart fun de time he starts out a fiddler
till de time he tuns to a ole he-channeler
wit moss on he's back-sof' shelters, an
papers. an busters, an peelers. an
ev' ything. Dat sign? Why. my grandson
paint dat sign. He's a right smart
peart boy, cep'n he'd druther play
den wuk. Yessum, de smeller dat sea
weed do suttinly take you back | sits
here an tells de youngsters 'roun' dat
dey amt no times like dem ole days
when a darby pusson didn' have to work
fob rent, an close. an a little stump n
to eat. De good Lawd amt handin on,
40 luck like dat, no mo- Yessum, l ain
got no bag, but / kin wrop you up a
mess-thanky, chile-anybody sho can tel
YOU cum FUN ole Merlin. Yessum."
And that is why you find yourself go
ing home-in your just tubbed white skirt
and shirt waist-with three gloriously
smelly hard crabs. cooked and cold, bun
died in a wrinkly newspaper and tied with
string-of which the least said the
better.
A young woman in a trig riding habit,
crop in hand and dog at side. was STEP
ping breezily toward a bride path in the
Mall near the White House. Her hair
was tucked under a stiff derby. her tailor
ed jacket opened over white shirt with
mannish collar and four-in-hand. and the
"cross-saddle" skirt revealed patent
leather boots-of the masculine gender
To a bunch of tourists who were stroll
ing from the Corcoran Gallery of Art
around the ellipse the equestrienne pos
oil fhn n nf
eyes of the entire party bulged with Gu
riosity until she was barred from sight
by outreaching three branches and then
one of them gasped out to passing ma
tive:
Was that DR.. Mary Walker or Mrs.
Taft"
And the native answered:
Both of them"
Oh. Of course. it wasn't nice OF him,
but-all of US have our temptations!
You can't say the first word about go
ing abroad that some damp blanket
doesn't voice the slogan:
See your own country first"
You can get back, Of course. with the
fact that Americas Rockies and deserts
and canyons and things will keep, while
the customs and costumes of old Europe
are changing every day, but-just be-
tween us, nelSh pOrS-do We KNOW our own
town?
Merely as a test Of our knowledge. sup
pose we take. say. the most conspicuous
thing in the town to start on:
Are you on visiting terms with big Lib
erty on the Capitol dome?
You are distantly acquainted with her,
Of course, but-do you know, offhand,
that our dear goddess Is nineteen feet tall,
with six inches over for good measured
and that she has lovely, long. loose curls,
VA lnolr {nto {v,,v,o 1ryJxH
the assurance of one who can skip all
over the multiplication table and say the
signs OF the zodiac backward?
That isn't green sweater she Is wear
ing. 1t is mantle that might be a
tribal blanket except that Thomas Craw-
ford being in Rome when he created her,
did as the Romans do and draped it with
a toga. And If you think she Is wearing
one of those knit caps that come down in
the back, you are entirely mistaken, be-
cause the cap is a helmet trimmed with
stars and trimmed with an eagles head
and wing feathers. And you wouldn't
feel at all anxious about her getting diz-
w if you could see how steadily she has
propped herself. with a shield on the left
and a sword on her right and q good
broad, sensible foot planked down on
heron her. Sorry, but the fuse has
burned out, and you'll have to go down
to the old National Museum and find out
for yourself.
Anyhow, when Crawford sent her over
she was only a plaster-of- paris Liberty.
and it was our own Clark Mills who i'm
mortalized her into bronze-and that
brings 1t down to the Bishop:
''She isn't a unionist. She's a copper
head"
The old prelate smiled and shook his
head, as reminiscent folk have a way
Of doing: Was little Amelia Blank a
kinswoman Of yours. my child. and
can you tell me about herr"
The reporter could not tell him.
"She was all had in the world. And
she Is out in Mount Olivet-"
And there's another story about
liberty. but Enough Is always
enough.