Evening star., 1915-01-02
| THE EVENING STORY.
| Mrs. DinWiddie's Husband.

Mr.. Dinwiddie was very nice. in
nocuous little man. Indeed, there was
something almost obtrusive about his
harmlessness. He shrank from a
strange child with looks Of pathetic
appeal to the bystanders. He always
said, mo, thank you," to clamorous
newsboys, and it is a miracle that his
respect for Mrs. Dinwiddie had ever
relaxed enough to allow him to marry
her. She was a large. gusty woman.
When she spoke to you it seemed that
she was perpetually about to shake
her fist in your face, while in CONVEX
sation with Mr. Dinwiddie one never
got rid OF the uneasy sensation that
he was keeping his fingers crossed be-
hind his back.
1t was out of regard for his peter
two-thirds' that Mr.. Dinwiddie came to
the university town just before COM
mencement time. Mrs. Dinwiddie had
been a prom girl in her lighter days
and wished to behold those scenes
again. The first evening Of their visit
Mr.. Dinwiddie was packed off to the
club to meet people. with strict orders
not to come home too early. Mrs. Din
widdie went with Lucy and the girls
to a musical.
At seven minutes past 1 the next
morning Mr.. Dinwiddie picked his way
daintily across Alden street and
turned down Glen street toward his
temporary home. On the left side of
Glen street are dry little late colonial
houses: on the right rise clifflike the
long, red, many-windowed walls OF q
university dormitory. Mrs. Dinwtddie
ol.&
fifthAa thin, ashamed house. with con-
crete urns in the front yard. Let 1t be
understood past question that. In spite
of the hour. Mr.. Dinwiddie was pro-
foundly sober. He was not reeilne
very well, because he had been drink
ing Horse Necks. while the other men
drank Black and White highballs. He
had conscientiously kept even. and nve
bottles of ginger ale at sitting Is
strain.
MI. Dinwiddie found the fifth house,
verified the number, looked at his sill
yer watch, went through the gate side
wise, and with sigh OF relief rang
the bell. He glanced across at the
dormitory, and vague thought no. na,n snlI,
thought which, had Mr.. Dfnwiddie been
Wordsworth, would have resulted In
the sonnet on Westminster bridge. He
sighed and pushed the button again.
An aching stiffness followed. A cab
bered out of hearing. Mr.. Dinwiddtes s
face hardened. He leaned long against
the button, until he could family hear
the querulous voice of the bell He
listened until his own pulses were as
the tread of multitudes hurrying to
open the door. Still held the hollow
hush. Had Mr.. Dinwiddie been a
scholar he might have reflected that
the Greeks and primitive peoples gen.
orally have been quite correct IN 10
stead of philosophizing. he groaned
gently, and alternated his bell-ringing
with such tentative gatherings at the
door as it seemed must arouse the
neighborhood. But Glen street Is m IN
ured to nocturnal noises, and all its
mighty heart continued to lie stu.
Mr.. Dinwiddie desisted. listened at the
keyhole-then delicacy abdicated He
retreated to the sidewalk and called
his wifes name aloud in the public
"Oh, Mary! Let me in!'
Across the way a restless sophomore
with headache heard that vail. and
arose. Leaning half out of his win
dow he contemplated the serenader'
The sophomore reached for the water
bottle on his window sill. uncorked
it, and slowly drank one pint, Then ne
wetted his head. Then he leaned out
again. Then he chuckled. Other stu
dents awoke and reused their room
mates. The invocations in the street
gained volume. The psychic sense of
something doing pervaded the dormi,
tory. Presently. every window held
servant, grinning. handful of
matches spattered on the sidewalk.
raising little pale flames. A voice
cried: "Fi-er" and the multitudinous
amusement became audible. MI; DIN
widdle started and grew hot. His hair
itched, He was desperate.
MARY! Mary! Let me in! It's / It's
Arthur"
The sophomore nearly threw himself
ali together" Three hundred pairs Of
sturdy lungs filled at the word. Are
you ready? One, two
"oh. Mary! Observation-Disclosures
he-window"
shame and rage. His heart was alter
nate flame and ice. He shook his thin
fists overhead and demonstrated pas
sionately. But by this time foghorn
would have been inaudible. The strains
of Don't You See I'm Lonely" at one
end of the building contended with a
hastily extemporized version of Every
body Works but Arthur" at the other.
The splatter of matches was tncessant.
All the more noisy domestic animals
were initiated at once One man was
firing blank cartridges. another vas
displaying his ignorance of the bugle.
flaming newspapers floating earthward
or sticking among the telephone wires
cast a grewsome light over the scene.
And from an upper window. a stem
torian wretch with a megaphone was
conjuring Mary by all known gods Of
classic and moder. times to cut out
pounding her ear and produce poor
Arthur's nightie.
:Gentiemen! Gentlemen shrieked
Mr.. Dinwiddie in a momentary luil,
consider! How can YOU" Bottle
night" roared a senior. And immedi-
ately every man in the building hurled
his water bottle crashing into the
street. and followed 1t with his wash
bowl and pitcher. Broken glass slith-
cred over the stones. bottles rang and
clashed, pitchers popped, wash bowls
doomed. And amid the scattering fire
of the last ammunition the dormitory
chanted with one organ voice:
"Ain't dat shame.
A measly shame,
To keep your honey
Out in de rain?"
A carriage with frightened horses
drove crunching through the frag-
mentary potsherds. Therefrom descend
ed Mary, indignant, and the family of
her sister Mr.. Dinwiddie tucked him.
self under her arm, with a squeak of
low. And as the door of the house with
the concrete urns in the yard banged
after the company the sophomore,
weak with laughter, sent forth with
his last remaining breath the imme-