Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1913-10-23
THE EVENING STORY.
BOOMERS.
Copyright. 1913. by w. werner.)

when do you think you could pay
me?" Mrs. Hanson asked. obviously.
Twenty years of running rooming house
that had sunk from second class to fourth
had made her cautious.
'Oh, In week Or" Then sud-
denly the girl-she was little more. de-
spite the seven-year-old boy at her side,
who called her mother threw off pre-
tense 'tOh. 1 don't know. The agency
said today that they might place me mex;
week or the week after But it's the off
season for the legitimate and I didn' I
make much of a hit III vaudeville with
grim little laugh. IF it wasn't for
Petey here" she broke off, drearily
Its begging. guess. to ask you to
keep me. Goodness only knows when /
can pay you
Mrs. Hanson pushed back a wisp OF
gray hair that hung over the side of her
face and pondered. Estelle Maybe waited
She was pretty girl, with delicate
face, and big, dark blue eyes. She a.
ready owed Mrs Hanson for two weeks
and Mrs. Hanson herself was behind on
her own rent. And besides rent. gas,
grocery and meat bills pressed heavily
upon the old, tired woman, who had
neither re atives nor friends. She ghed
If the room would Sand empty. the .hari y
for pract cally it was that-wodld have
been easier. But Jerry Crane. an cd
lodger, had sent a card to say that he
would be in the city for two weeks, ami
Mrs. Hanson would please save him a
room. Jerry was good pay. He cane in
about three times year and paid in ad-
vance, usually more than she asked. But
this girl wanted SO to stay. Mrs. Hanson
tried her best to be hard-hearted anu gave
in Jerry would have to tind another
place. She couldn't turn these two on,
and still sleep comfortably
oh, but You are good cried Estelle,
dabbing a lace frill of ner tawdry t;mono
at her wet eyes, I'VE won't forget, viii.
We, Petey? And when our ship comes
in we'll make Mrs. Hanson captain. -
Then she skipped back to her room to
fix up for her daily trip to the taeatri-
cal agencies that might have something
for her.
Mrs. Hanson looked after her slim,
1.-THE form. then walked stiff1y because
of rheumat sm-down the narrow and
gloomy stairway that led to the basemen,
regions And there in the privacy OF an
Untitled and ugly kitchen she looked at
the future. She was cd and very tired
tired of work, of roomers, of lie. Hus-
band and only child, a boy, had been
dead many years. The roomins house
that had given her a comfortable livil &
for long time was play .ng out The
furniture was old, and she had no money
tor new. At sixty-five scrubbing, clean
ing and sweeping are not so easy as ne
USED to be. And the rheumatism that had
been merely dull ache was now shar
pain. Also, instead of coming occas on
ally. it was with her all the time. She
reused presently. The bell of the third
floor was ng ng. That would be Miss
Colt for clean towels.
OF course when people paid they We're
entitled to service. But it did seem that
M a snf n IS
And laundry charges were so high. Cid
Mrs. Hanson sighed as she lmped up
But Miss Colt didn't want clean towels
She was a thin, acidulated woman who
did fancy embro derry for Livelihood an
had nerves" She wanted to know. ira e.
ly, if children were a lowed to pranie up
and down the halls. making such racket
that it deafened roomers. In a corner of
the hall Petey was standing. His small
face redeemed guilty. A piece of string
q broom between the small egs and a
small stick in one hand betrayed horse
back haunt.