Gilpin observer., 1914-10-22

omllcu dppTOVluSly. seventeen years
tago. when. her son had been born, and
ten years ago, when she had got her
divorce, Emma McChesney had
thanked her God that her boy had not
been girl. Sometimes, now, she was
not SO sure about it. 1t must be fasci-
mating work-selecting velvet suits.
made "fussy," for a daughters trous-
seau.
Just how fully those five months of
small-town existence had got on her
nerves Emma McChesney did not real
ize until the train snorted into the
shed and she shifted the mingled smell
| Of smoke and stockyards and found 1t
sweet in her nostrils. An unholy JOY
seized her. She entered the biggest
store and made for the millinery de-
partment, yielding to an uncomfortable
desire to buy hat. 1t was a pert,
trim, smart little hat. 1t made her
thirty-siX years seem less possible
than ever, and her seventeen-year-old
son an absurdity.
1t was four-thirty when she took
the elevator up to Mary Cuttings Of
flee on the tenth floor. She knew she
would find Mary Cutting there-Mary
Cutting, friend, counselor, adviser to
every young girl in the great store
and to all Chicago's silly, helpless
Chickens"
door and wrote names on slips. But
at sight of Emma McChesney she laid
down her pencil. "Well," smiled the
dragon, you're a sight for sore eyes.
There's nobody in there with her. Just
walk in and surprise her."
At a rosewood desk in q tiny cozy
office sat pink-cheeked, white-haired
woman. You associated her in your
mind with black velvet and real lace.
ney entered. Emma McChesney wait
ed for one small moment Then:
Cut out the bank president stuff.
Mary Cutting, and make fuss over
me-" she commanded.
The pink-cheeked, white-haired
woman looked up. You saw that her
eyes were wonderfully young. She
made three marks on piece of paper.
pushed a call-button at her desk, rose,
and hugged Emma McChesney thor
oughly and satisfactorily, then held
her of a moment and demanded to
know where she had bought her hat.
Got it ten minutes ago, in the mil
linery department downstairs. Had to.
II I'd have come into New York after
five months exile like this I'd prob
ably have bought brocade and fur
| IN
feeling of wild joy. For five months
I've spent my evenings in my hotel
room, or watching the Maude Byrnes
Stock company playing Lena Rivers
with the ingenue coming out between
the acts in a calico apron and pink
sunbonnet and doing a thing they bill
as vaudeville. I'm dying to see a real
show-a smart one that hasn't run 200
nights on Broadway-one with pretty
girls. and pink tights, and lot of
moonrises, and sunsets and things. and
a prima donna in a dress SO stunning
that all the women in the audience are
busy copying it SO they can describe
1t to their home dressmaker next day."
Poor. poor child" said Mary Cut
ting, II don't seem to recall any such
show"
We'll, 1t will look that way to me.
anyway" said Emma McChesney. 1--WE
wired Jock to meet me tomorrow, and
I'm going to give the child really siz-
zling little vacation. But tonight you
and will have an old-girl frolic. Well
have dinner together somewhere down.
town, and then We'll go to the theater,
and after that I'm coming out to that
blessed fiat of yours and sleep between
real sheets. Well have some sand
wiches and beer and other things out
of the ice-box. and then we'll have a
bathroom bee. Well let down our
back hair, and slap cold cream around,
and tell our hearts secrets and use
up all the hot water. Lordy! 1t will
be luxury to have bath in tub
that doesn't make you feel as though
you wanted to scrub 1t out with lye
and carbolic. Come on, Mary Cutting"
Mary Cuttings pink cheeks dimpled
like girls.
You'll never grow up. Emma Nc
Chesney-at least. hope you never
will. Sit there in the corner and be a
good child, and I'll be ready for you in
ten minutes"
Peace settled down on the tiny Of
fee Emma McChesney, there in her
corner, surveyed the little room with
entire approval. It breathed of things
restful. wholesome. comforting. There
was bowl of sweet peas on the desk;
there was an Indian sweet grass bas-
ket filed with autumn leaves in the
corner; there was an air Of orderli-
ness and good taste; and there was
the pink-cheeked. white-haired woman
at the desk.
"There!" said Mary Cutting, at last.
She removed her glasses. snapped
them up on n little spring-chain near
her shoulder. sat back. and smiled
L.