Evening star., 1911-01-22

es in height, and desperately in love
with a girl out there, and on the verge
Of marrying her-and haven't 1 two mar
ried daughters. and am l not grand
mother these two years past?" said the
woman, happy-eyed~ at the thought.
Now. isn't that the dickens?" COM
mented the man, shaking his head won
deringly. ''Why, what's become of the
years, Carrie? Honestly, it's grisly. Why,
my dear girl, you look just about the
same as you did the day We walked up
to the top of the Washington Monu-
ment-holding hands the most of the
way, except when folks passed us COM
ing up or going down. Perhaps you've
picked up a mite of weight, but"
They both laughed.
'I could as soon walk from here to
the star Algol as 1 could walk to the
top of the Washington Monument now,'
she said, her eyes alight with happy
reminiscence. But it's like you to say
that. You always did have a vandars
piece of the Blarney stone in your
pocket
the days Of their sweethearting in Wash
ington. IA
in those old brown-painted Belt line
horse cars was pretty near the acme OF
delight and dissipation, and how we used
to have to scheme and contrive to get
away from your folks to take those
rides?" the man asked.
She remembered, of course; a woman
never forgets such things; and her laughs
sounded to the man like echoes from the
valley of yesterday.
Your eyes still scroonch up and all
but close when you laugh, same as they
used to, Carrie said the man. But,
about those Belt line car rides have
a hideous confession to make. l never
told you in the old years, of course, be-
cause it was altogether too hopelessly
humiliating. Member one day we rode
on the Belt line car down to the old Ma
tional Museum and spent the afternoon
there, making believe we were looking at
Gen Grants swords and things, but really
seeing only each other? And dye recall
how, when the afternoon was over, L
made you walk all the way home with
me. because I said we both needed the
exercise and the open air would do US
good and all that sort of thing?"
Remember? OF course, she did.
WELL" said the man, ''this is the hor-
rible confession: l didn't have the neces-
sary dime for the ride home on the Belt
line car Only had a dime when We
started out, and that afternoon, despite
your being with me, was one prolonged
misery for fear you'd penetrate my rea-
son for asking you to walk home in
stead Of riding"
But do you mean to tell me, after
this lapse Of years, that l didn't know
that the reason why you walked me home
that day was that you didn't have the
car fare?' she asked him, happily.
What q Ounce you must have thought
me.'
But that experience" went on the
man, wasn't a marker to the horrible
feeling of degradation / experienced on
another day. You'll remember it when
tell you about it. 1t happened one day
while I was holding down my first job
one Wednesday afternoon. The job.
erdashery shop on Pennsylvania ave-
nue.. / was all-around roustabout in the
shop. Well. on this Wednesday after
noon, the boss set me to the job of wash
hated that. but l needed the job and
three and q half a week. And so, on
stepladder. l was swabbing away at
those measly windows. hoping that no
body that knew me would come along
and see me at such frightfully degrad-
ing task, and hoping most particularly
that you wouldn't come along and see
me- But the thousand-to-one chance
happened, of course. Along you came
with another girl, both with paper bags
of taffy In your hands, on your way to
the matinee at Albaugh was in
the day when JEANNE Winston was in
such terrific vogue in Washington as
a singer of the old comic operas. Wen,
there was no way for me to duck or
dodge / was up near the top of the
stepladder. putting the elbow grease at
the job of polishing those windows, and
/ didn't see you until you were only
a little distance away. You tried not to
look disdainful, I3l give you that credit,
but you couldn't help 1t. 1t was per-
fectly palpable 20 me that. in the depths
Of you. YOU revolted at the spectacle of