Evening public ledger. [volume] (Philadelphia [Pa.]) 1914-1942, 1914-09-14
THE STRIVINGS
OF ELLEN ADAIR
IN PHILADELPHIA
the First of a Series
Detailing the Experiences
of a Real Flesh and Blood
English Girl.

have sat here, pen in hand, for hours
here In my shabby lodging. with its drab
walls and flaring gas let, its cheap furnl-
ture and its dreadful air of solitude-and
my heart Is SO full of memories that
can scarce write! All! memories and old
regrets. ! will drive you away tonight
and be the old light-hearted Ellen Adair
once more Away with failure and loneli-
ness! must win out, I shall make good;
this idle dreaming is of no avail.
The rain is dripping on the roof tonight
"a gentle, quiet rain. unlike the wild
downpourinss Of this strange, wonderful
country-and the sound of It on the roof
takes me back to my little English village
on the Sussex Downs. where life ran In
as gentle courses as the falling rain, and
was young and sheltered. Youth and
hapr mess! Oh, the sheer music Of the
words! Yet there are greater things in
life than these. and I am learning them
now. For the old Ellen Adair was a child
ish. thoughtless person, who vegetated in
her quiet English village; and now, she
is learning harder lesson, and in a new
country. fighting better and worthier
feht.
1t seems years, instead OF bare two
months since that sunny summer morn
ing when I sailed away from Southamp-
ton dock-with a big lump in my throat.
my worldly all in my shabby trunk, so
tucked away in corner OF my shabby
mourning frock. and n desperate deter
mination to. make good in the new and
wonderful country to which 1 was going.
What crowded experiences have inter-
vened since then! and l, Ellen Adair,
an English girl, young and strong, and
ah, dear Heaven, still hopeful, am
facing this new world alone. And the
sheer lonesomeness of this rainy night
is driving me 10 write the story OF my
life-T feel and think like 40. but l am
only 24-and in the old cracked mirror
opposite l see a young face, with new,
tired lines around the mouth. But there
Is added strength and resolution there.
| must begin my tale in earnest now,
and away with sentiment. In my life
there can be but little room for that
am a worker, and must cease to dream.
My childhood was happy one, and, be-
ing happy, was uneventful. l was an only
child, and in spite of much petting re-
mained comparatively unspoiled. How
well do l remember those old happy days
in the English seaside town. My father,
a country doctor was so busy that l
rarely saw him, but my mother was my
constant companion, and I idolized her
She was the kindly sharer of my joys and
of my sorrows, a real friend and COM
panion.
The first break in my life was at the
age OF 10. I was sent Off to boarding
school in London. quiet, unpretentious,
midde-class school, where for two years
l was a pupil. But in that sheltered
haven We saw but little of London life,
Occasional visits to the opera were a
wonder and a glory-the myriad slittering
lights of Shaftsbury avenue and PicCa-
dllly, tho crowds of beautifully gowned
women and their conventionally garbed
male escorts. the swarming taXis-it was
all so wonderful. The green beauty OF
Kensington Gardens or Regent Park
was a favorite haunt for our afternoon
walk, and I shall never forget my first
glimpse OF the King and Queen. then
Prince and Princess OF Wales, outside
Buckingham Palace, How beautiful she
looked with her golden hair, blue eyes
and delicate complexion. I fancied that
she smiled at us school girls, and we all
loved her.
But a shadow fell on these happy days.
My father, the hard-worIsed doctor, died
suddenly, bequeathing to my mother and
ms a mere pittance, and a little cottage
ne owned in the south of England, in the
heart of beautiful Sussex, There We took
up our abode. l was barely Il then. At
FIRST I found the peaceful village life a
little dull. But | soon grew accustomed
to our quiet existence and mother and |
vegetated happily there. Books, our piano
and long walks on the Sussex downs We're
our hobby. Oh! the beauty of the rolling
moorland. with Its clumps of trees and
the lazy cattle resting beneath It's hum
ming insect life and its beautiful English
flowers, For seven years these things al
most satisfied me. | say almost" for
at times a vague longing for a wider
horizon would seize me, q vague longing
for zone crowded hour Of glorious life
beyond the narrow negative happiness OF
my present quiet existence.
or men In that Sussex village there were