The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1911-02-22
THE EVENING, STORY
Burying the Hatchet.
BY Dorothy Blackmore. }

Patricia Woodkirk sat idly turning
the leaves of a current magazine She
felt particularly indolent; her atti-
tude was almost lazy Nothing on
the pages before her brought so much
as an alert glance from her eyes.
Presently, she turned back leaf to
look again at the likeness of a man.
The face was none other than that of
George Washington.
Patricia stared at the face. and as
ner eyes remained on the likeness
they gathered a reminiscent express
SON. Not that Patricia had known
the illustrious general; for though
she was known in Meadville by the
very young set as an old maid, she
was. in reality, in her very early
But the birthday of Washington
mad been chosen, once upon time,
by Patricia Woodkirk as a night for a
Colonial dance. Her guests had come
In wigs and with powder and patches,
while she herself had been dressed as
Martha Washington. And-there had
quarreled with him bitterly on that
very night after the Iast dance and
mad been too obstinate ever since to
admit 1T either to George Washington
or to any one else.
Patricia continued to live in the old
room in which she now sat that her
merry party of young folks had con-
gregated a few years ago. Most of
them were married now and scattered.
Her friends were largely among the
married couples of the town though.
not two weeks ago, Patricia had en-
tertained young woman in her home
and the taste of gay young life once
more had brought back her own
bright girlhood.
Corinne Jamerson-the young girl
who had been Patricia's guest-had
won no end of admiration from the
towns young men; and she. having
come from the city with her attrac-
tive, II frivolous, manner, found it
not little interesting to ado notch af-
ter notch to her beau stick.
AS Patricia thought over the stay
of her young guest she recalled sew
eral instances in which the young
woman had fiirted with the acknowl-
edged beau of one of the towns own
girls. Perhaps-in fact as Patricia
there were many uneasy hearts since
her departure.
III have party on February 22."
Patricia almost said it aloud.
She closed the magazine with a
bang and sat alert. ''I'll ask all the
girls and boys to come and bury the
hatchet. Well have a formal cere-
mony of it and her cheeks glowed
as the plan unwound itself in her
bra1n-"weH wear powder and
patches"
Suddenly her face clouded again
and her eyes took on the reminiscent
shadow.
But" she said. half aloud.
Then, as if fearing she would go
back on an impulse she knew in
tuitively was good, she rushed to her
desk.
s,if+;pu dox.o e1,o xxro+ a. e+
of her invitations in almost breath
less haste. In it, she asked one
George Washington to dress as
George Washington to come to her
party to help bury the Ratchet.
She folded. sealed and addressed the
note without SO much as rereading it,
1t seemed. when she stopped for even
an instant to think, such an awful Of
Tense against her family pride.
In due time she wrote the other in
vitations and not single one was re-
fused.
ut looks as if every one was anx-
ious to bury the Ratchet she thought,
as she read an acceptance from one
young person whom she knew had
strayed from the side of his sweetheart
to worship at the shrine of her young
guest, Corinne
was lighted with severe looking CO.
loniaI candlesticks with straight, I'M
shaded candles, when the Colonial
DANES began to arrive. Men in satin
breaches with large buckled slippers
and heavy white wigs soon talked Sc
dately with DANES in sheer white
fchus and voluminous skirts.
Patricia, herself, was a beautiful
young Martha Washington as she
stood to greet her guests in the same
costume she had worn on a night not
so many years ago.
As fha evening 7aI a
guest was presented with a Ratchet.
He was told that outside in the con-
servatory in tubs and flower boxes
hidden away were numbers cores
ponding to the ones on the handles of
the hatchets. 1t was his duty, so
Patricia told each one to seek the
proper girl and with her find the
number in the conservatory. To-
gether, they were to bury the Ratchet
with whatever ceremony they found
most fitting for the time and place.
When every man had found a girl,
Patricia sat alone in the great sitting
room, the candles burned to half
their original size. One guest had
not come and Patricia was the odd
girl.
ington stood in the doorway He had
entered, unannounced. His apologies
to Patricia covered his emotion as he
held her little hands in his own letting
the soft lace of his sleeve fall over it.
His excuse was his desire tc wear the
same suit he had worn on a night
they both remembered-and his diff
Guilty in getting into it.
Patricia laughed to cover her own
embarrassment.
''And I've brought along the same
Ratchet I carried that highland for
got to bury he said.
1.-THE - the others are scattered
about the conservatory now, burying
theirs" Patricia told MIN.
Then she explained all about her
frivolous young guest who had made
such stir in the quiet little town by
winning the boys from their own
sweethearts.
And what about US, Patsy?" the
man asked, looking down at her.
Patricia's head dropped. She dared
not reveal to him her joy at hearing