Essex County herald. [volume] (Guildhall, Vt.) 1873-1964, 1915-03-12
HIS LAST TEA FIGHT.
BY HOPE AlNSLEE.

tneSe tea ngntS, Helen, peg OF you,
protested Donald Moore as he antici-
pated his sisters invitation.
Helen's pretty face became clouded
at once. George! How rude! Tea
fights!"
well, pink, blue or yellow teas
or anything you like to call them. I've
escorted you this whole winter from
one studio to another I've imbibed
gallons of sickly tea and eaten pounds
of cake and tarts and jam, and I've
listened to would-be artists rave for
hours about their souls and their tenn
peraments. I'm sick of it."
won't you go just this once-this
afternoon? l promised you would be
there and I believe you'll really like
Caroline Becker. She has no tempera-
ment and of course l find her rather
dull"
'Ill co." interrupted her brother.
"Any person living in studio and
having tea and that you can find dull
must be an oddity."
George turned away, whistling. He
had a sincere hope that his sister
would develop some common sense
after she had a season or two Of New
York studio life. She was young.
AS they walked briskly down Cen
trail park west toward the studio build.
ing in which Helen's dull" artist
friend lived, George Moore began to be
oI11iO11c about n ir hpct6Cc n no
He was more than curious when he
took her proffered hand and felt heI
warm, strong grip as she welcomed
him and his sister to her studio. The
girl was beautiful, in a simple, sweet
way. She was like the girl he knew
in the West, not a particle like the
girls his sister "adored" and who lived
in the studios he had been frequent.
ing.
Neither was this studio like the
others. 1t looked more like a real
home than anything he had seen in
| New York. There was no oriental
scent in the air; there were no dimly
lighted candle lamps, no smoking
table with ladies cigarettes" lying
on it.
'This is so cheerful and homelike,
Miss Becker" he found himself say
ing after he and his sister had admired
the picture that had won the Academy
prize.
ooh, it is, really?" asked Caroline.
earnestly
'It is, indeed" George repeated.
That's been one of my main OBJ
| jects in the furnishing of it and in all
my little entertainments. I've tried
to have the home atmosphere-the
way mother does at home in Omaha
and, now don't laugh when l show
you something" She ran behind a
screen and returned with a stone
/ crock in her arms.
"The cookie crock" cried Helen.
81 can hardly believe my eyes," add.
ed George
"And real, homemade cookies!" ex
planned Caroline, removing the top OF
the crock. Mother sends them every
week and I always have some"
Each of the guests took round
sugar-covered cookie and ate it as if
it were the best thing they had ever
/ tasted.
Il wouldn't exchange this cookie for
all the French tarts or pate-de-foie
gras tid-bits in all the studios in New
York." said George Moore more en-
Enthusiastically than his sister had heard
him express himself since he had left
| home.
"They are good" admitted Helen.
ITS just that-they remind me OF
home" said Caroline.
AS George reached for third cookie
his sister frowned upon him.
George Moore! You laugh so loud
and eat so much. I'm ashamed OF
you," she admonished.
Don't be, please, Miss Moore,
pleaded Caroline, putting a friendly
hand on Helen's arm. IT'S so good
to see and hear him. It's like home
itself"
And after that the guests began tc
arrive so that George and his sister
could not monopolize their hostess
Helen had to drag her brother home
and as she usually had to urge him tC
remain even a polite length of time she
was more than amused.
"That is the first real girl I've met
at these tea fights, sis" he said as
they walked home.
"Yes?" replied Helen, raising hei
eyebrows. She's very pleasant"
Pleasant! l should think she was
she's peach! She's real genuine
girl and intend to see much of her
And hope that cookie crock will not
grow empty for intend to make many
ia raid on it,"
Il thought this was your last tea
fight" suggested his sister.
George laughed I'm forgive yor
for taking me to this one, sis-honest
i will"
For you saw the handwriting or
the wall of Caroline Becker's studio
didn't your" she asked, teasingly.
He nodded, 81 did; did your"