Evening times-Republican. [volume] (Marshalltown, Iowa) 1890-1923, 1912-07-24
.MARsHALLTOWN.I IOWA JULY e 1919

q stho deserts br4ia. HS loved tho
Orient, always % nav. always so
strange. YET ever % old and familiar.
A carriage stopped IN front. and his
gase naturally shifted. There Is cease.
less attraction ins SDeoulatinS about
newcomers In hotel. what they are,
what they do. where thoy come from,
and whore they arc going. A fine
elderly man Of nifty got out. In tho
square set Of his shoulders. the flow.
Ing white mustachS and imperial.
there WAS . suggestion Of militsrism.
He was Immediately followed by q
young woman Of twenty. certainly not
over that age. George sighed visit.
fully. He envied those polo-players
and gentieman-riders and bridgeex-
perts who were stopping at the hotel.
It wouldn't be an hour after dinner
before some one Of them found out who
she was and spoke to her in that easy
style which he concluded must be a
gift rather than an Accomplishment.
You mustn't suppose for minute that
George wasn't well-born and well-bred,
simply because his name was Jones.
Many q Fitx-Hugh Maurice or Hugh
Fitz.Maurice might have been But,
no matter. He knew instinctively,
then, what elegance was when he saw
It, and this girl was elegant, In dress.
in movement He rather liked the
pallor Of her skin, which limited that
she wasn't one Of those athletic girls
who bounced In and out of the din.
ing.room, talking loudly and smoking
cigarettes and playing bridge for six.
sure that her eyes were on the level
with his own. The grey veil that
dropped from the rim of her simple
Leghorn hat to the tip OF her nose OBJ
scured her eyes, SO he could not know
that they were large and brown and
indefnably sad. They spoke not Of
a WEAKNESS Of travel, but Of a weari.
ness of the world. more precisely, Of
the people who inhabited 1t.
She and her companion passed on
into the hotel, and II Georges eyes
veered again toward the desert over
which the stealthy puppies Of night
were creeping. the impulse was me-
chanica1; he saw nothing. In truth,
he was desperately lonesome, and he
knew, moreover, that he had no bust.
ness to be. He was young; he could
at q pinch tell joke as well as the
next man; and If he had never had
what he called an adventure, he had
seen many strange and wonderful
things and could describe them with
that mental afterglow which still lin
gers over the sunset Of our first ex.
pressions in poetry. But there was
always that hydra-headed monster, for
ever getting about his feet, numblng
his voice. paralyzing his hands, and
never he Topped off q head that an.
other did not instantly grow in its
place. Even the sword Of Perseus
could not have saved him, since one
has to- get away from an object in
order to cut It down.
Had he really ever tried to over.
come this monster? Had he not wait
ed for the propitious,, moment (Which
you and know never comes) to
throw off this species from Hades !?
It II all very we'll, when you are old
and dried up, to turnato ivories and
metals and precious stones: but when
fellows young! You can't shake
hands with an ivory replica Of the Tai
Malal. nor exchange Rleasantries with
Mandarin's ring. nor yet confide joys
and ills into a casket of rare emer-
AIDS; indeed. they do, but emphasize
ones loneliness. H. only he had had
dog; but ono can not carry a dog
halt way round the world and back, at
least not with comfort. What with
all these new-fangled quarantine Jaws.
duties, and fussy ships officers who
wouldn't let you keep the animal in
your state-room, travelling with four.
footed friend was almost an impossi.
bility. To be sure women with
po6dles. -. And then, there was
tho bitter Of acid In the knowledge
that no one ever came up to him and
slapped him on tho shoulder with a.
Hello, George, old sport; what's the
good -word?" for the simple fact that