Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1911-10-22
Around the CITY.

| A cemetery is quiet spot on week
| days.
a woman stood alone beside a mound
already drifted with leaves Far off-so
far that an acre of graves and head
stones lay between-another woman was
| crumpled in black heap by pile of
| earth so newly heaped that it had not
yet been sodded and way down the cob
bled driveway a laborer was pushing
before him with relentlessly unsympa-
| thetic broom. the wilted blossoms he had
swept from nearby tombS.
But up where the woman stood by the
leaf-drifted mound there was only silence
and sunshine and falling leaves until
wen. It's bound to come. sooner or
later. Ground around this city is too val
liable to afford a stretch of waste land,
like this, and, as long as we don't stand
for cremation. you'll see that will be
bound to come to my idea sooner or
later, and I'd like to be the one to push
it through, Take that vault and the
ground around i'll couldn't ask better
site. Why, l could build accommoda-
tions for thousand and more graves in
| space like that-it wouldn't cost like a
regular apartment house. of course, be-
cause ii is the plumbing and heating
plant that costs like all get-out. No fire
proofing nor kitchenettes nor living
rooms. but just so many sleeping apart
Il
ton hall for transients to take the place
of vault. With a building like that
you could bury the whole town in less
than an acre Of
Then the woman saw the author of
| this, literally heightened project, as he
curved around winding path. And the
man hushed into respectful silence at
sight of her. touched his hat as If in
apology, and walked on with his COM
paniOn without another word.
He was entirely the right kind of man
to look at and he must have been keeping
an anniversary that meant something to
him or he wouldn't be walking in ceme-
terry with tissue cone Of white flowers
in the middle of a Friday afternoon.
He was just live wire in the city of
the dead
She looked like twin to that other
woman who sweeps the cobwebs from the
sky. Her high-peaked hat was banded
with red ribbon. More red ribbon laced
the black bodice over its white guimpe
and her narrow skirt was short enough
to reveal the buckles and heels that all
of us have seen a-straddle a broom stick
lin the fairy tale.
But she sure was stylish.
The man with her looked like a dress
chart that had escaped from taiIors
advertisement and was yet to be caught.
And the woman was saying to the man:
Il don't care if you have signed the
lease. L positively refuse to live another
apartment like other people I'll rent a
house. Yes, ! will,''
She brought in the house as if it were a
threat. The dress chart seemed to take
it that way.
There was nothing to the talk. of
course, except that
Before the days of either flats or apart
ments there used TO be a nation that
honored man and gave him a monu-
ment for the one reason that he wrote
song about home
And the question is: Where is that
nation now?
The church was packed and damned
tnat woman who had entered lust as
the services were beginning had to crowd
into pew near the door,
ii was big church, and a sea-not an
open sea-of billOwy pIumes and Paris
peaks and Dutch bonnets Law between
her and entirely hid the altar at the
other end.
In due time came the sermon prefaced
by gospel text and the usual current re-
marks concerning the services and Dlans
Of the week. ''.''
me woman was afraid, at first that
she wouldn't be able to hear word. hut
This was it:
Pew rents are now due"
In the twilight:
A man in an automobile was getting
When another man came uD with an
empty bicycle lamp
lie sai6 something to the man in the
machine. The man got out, reached I'M
der the back of the automobile. drew
out a gasoline can, filled the lamp AS IL
| IT were no more of favor than passing
over match. got back into his automo-
bile and chugged off, while the bicycle
| man lit his lamp and fixed it to his
wheel.
That was all there was to It, but saw
When 1t comes to an everyday kind
ness with no string to it. is there a soul
in all creation to equal an everyday man?
Did you see him?
Did you see the dog ride down the
Avenue with a hat on his head-and a
red necktie? And pipe in his mouth?
And did you hear the negro track la
borers guffaw at sight Of him?
And. quite regardless of whether or not
your fancy runs to smoking dogs in hats
and neckties, don't you consider that any
free show is worth while that will cause
laughter in a world that Is overdamp from
tears?
And if you don't, why lot?
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