Atlanta Georgian. [volume] (Atlanta, Ga.) 1912-1939, 1913-07-05
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THEY'vE quarreled. the two "nind-
mate friends.
u No, I don't mean intimate"
No. I don't mean intimate,
mean "nintimate"-that's what they
call each other. Ones ten and ones
nine, and they've been playing dolls to-
gether for weeks
told Ten-year- old that she had bet
ter play with someone else for while
You and Nine Year-oId will quarrel
as sure as fate" said IT. oh, so wisely.
Quarrel, my intimate friend and
u" cried Ten-year- in horror Oh,
how could we ever do such a thing?
Why, she's the sweetest girl in the
world. l wish my hair was the color
of hers and my eyes, too, so we could
wear the same coIored ribbons, and oh,
can't we both have linen hats, the same
shade anyhow"
So they had linen hats the same
shade, and the new kind Of heelless
shoes the same shape. and Brown Eyes
tied on pink ribbon and so Blue
Eyes had to tie on a pink ribbon, too.
But now they've quarreled, quarreled
badly It began over the dolls. Nine
year old wanted the dolls TO go to school
and say their seven times. and Ten
year old wanted to send them to the
mountains or TO the seashOre or some
where
isn't Il bad enough to say our own
old ten times and eight times over and
over" said -year-eld, without
making perfect slaves Of the poor,
darling dollsT''
I'm not slave" said Nine-year- old,
and I'd thank you not to call me one"
why" said Ten-ysar-old. Il didn't.
I said
Il know what you said" said Nine
year-old, Il can hear all right only
she said "hyear."
well. then" cried Ten-year-
why don't you talk all right" Ft-t-t-
the trouble began right then-doils went
home-ribbons came off-hats were
thrown in the closet-out Of the hated
sight ''I'I never play with her again"
sobbed Ten-year- old.
'T hate the sight of her." quavered
Nine year-oid, and so the day was
clouded.
What mattered how gayly the sun
shone, what mattered how sweetly the
towering bush at the back gate beck
oned-who cared what the robin tried
10 say. Gone-to smithereens-one
long. happy, happy day. Gone never to
come back again-alas. alas, what a sin
full waste. and all because the ''ninti-
mate friends" were just shade too
intimate" that's all.
The young couple next door-how
dead In love they are; she walks to the
corner every night to meet him. and he
turns around three or four times to
wave her goodbye in the mornings
And the other night, when one of his
old friends dropped in for a pleasant
evening, she pouted; 1 could see 1t by
the very turn Of her shoulders.
She didn't want a soul around but
him And Sunday. when her sister
came over after church, he went up
stairs and sulked. 1 could see his shad-
ow on the blind
They won't admit now that there is
any gulf at all, oh, no. They're one,
you know; didn't they say so before the
parson and all the church full Of smil-
ing friends. One-which one wonder7
VIII she give up her individuality
the one thing that called him to her-or
will he be just an echo Of her.
One! Which one? always wonder
How much better 1t Is when you get
to understand that two human be-
ings mean two every time and not one
at all; the man is a man, not a copy Of
woman, and the woman Is a woman,
not an echo Of the man; each must live
his and her own separate life, and the