Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1914-07-12

cracker on her index finger is as safe
with me as"
ooh, I think I'll pass you on to some
one else. You're not anywhere near CIV
ilized. Really. Miss Babistair. want to
inf1ict Mr.. Punctual on you"
Miss Babistair dimpled and sided up
to Paul "Hajaduh?''
Paul wondered if she was one of the
women one offers to shake hands with
or the other sort. BY the time he had
decided it was too late.
Il am fairly we'll, and thank you for
asking
"Phu. phu-you're funny. 1 must have
seen your work somewhere-in the maya
zines, l fancy. You make pictures or
something. I've been abroad much of
my life 1 haven't kept up with you over
heah.''
You're English?''
"No-American.'
Over here incog?"
"Whatchoo mean?'
"Oh. nothing
Tell me, you are an illustrator, are
you not?''
NO: worse than that. A poet"
Fancy! How nice! Oh, have you met
Mr.. Ponctshl?" This to a foreign-look-
ing f1apper, who was passing in a puma
like manner. Foreign napper pauses and
shakes hands gummily with Paul. Miss
BaDlSta1r SneakS.
Miss Babistair didn't mention your
name
No. she doesn't know me. Perhaps
that is why. My name is Miss Pure
Ssh! Yes: I live in Paris. Mrs. Bos-
took has the only salon in New York"
so several people have told me.
From the looks of the table of de-
canters and bottles one might say
saloon. Have Won had nnnch
"RatherI Several! Oliver Herford
passed the word around that It's full
of absinthe, and that keeps the New
Rochelle and Flushing bunch aawy from
it,
'Oliver Herford. the vice president Of
the Herford Manufacturing Company"
Paul is trying to be amusing.
NO. stupid. Oliver Herford, the wit,
artist and poet"
"Oh, Mr.. Ford. come over here" She
grabbed Jim Ford, the sardonic, by
the sleeve and introduced Paul to him.
Here's a man who doesn't know who
Oliver Herford is"'
Hes stringing you. Everybody
knows the famous Kittenlogist. the
originator of the proverb The moro
haste the less speed"
II confess laughed Paul. Il was
jes' foolin'. All the stories they don't
credit to Daniel Webster and Abe Lin
coln-by the way, Mr.. Ford. Miss Pure
leaf tells me that Mrs Bostock has
the one real salon in town."
"Oh, yes" whispers Ford. Every
woman who can corral three stock
brokers. an advertising man and
9th street dressmaker has the one
salon."
A dark gentleman Just then made his
way to the piano.
"Oh. gosh. there goes that wedge
faced wap to the box again!" hoarsely
whispers a stout Old lady in bodice
all covered with sequins and glass
beads.
who is that?' Paul Kisses to Jim
Ford.
That old woman, gotten up like the
electric sign for Spriggle's Nearmint
Gum? That is Mrs. Hugglesby of
Omaha, grandparents members of the
Brook farm gang in New England, au-
thor of The Care and Preservation of
Our Mother Tongue.
Oliver Herford joins them, stirring
his cup of tea with a lady finger.
Oliver remarks IN MS dlndent man
ner. isn't that thing tiresome the
fellows singing. that Caruso piece,
Down in Mobile?'''
Miss Pureleaf says:
You mean Dome Mobile Mr. Her.
ford.
.'Oh, perhaps that was what meant"
"Oh, Mr.. Punctual, come over here.
His hostess voice
Paul feels as helpless as an infant
caterpillar in a nest of hungry ants. He
seemed to have left his will-power with
his hat and coat as he followed her
through the crowd to the other end OF
the room.
Il want you to meet" Mrs. Bostock
smiled helplessly. Now, l know your
name well as I-your face is as ia
miliar AS
Mrs Punctual,'' said Polly, with ma
licious animal magnanimity.
Mrs. Punc-Mrs. Punc-oh, am l get
ting fatuous as well as fat. introducing
you to your own-oh! oh!'' She fled.
Polly smiled up at Paul. How do you
do?''
''Tm pleased to meet you. We ought
to have lot in common
Yes" said Polly, serenely. with .
house on it, but we haven't.
$50 you've already succumbed to the