The Press., 1915-09-29
THE GREEN MANIKIN A Story With Heart
 Interest"
By AGNES C. BRoGAN

f-f-f-t~f-t-t-t-s-f-ft~f When David Bronson heard an Amer ican speaking voice in that little far away Parisian restaurant an emotion that was surprising surged within him ''So this was what had been the trOu ble of late. this the cause of his un finished book-homesickness, pure old fashioned homesfckness." Long ago. as a lad, he had realized this desperate feeling. Now the sound of that familiar tongue brought back c longing to be among his own" which was almost unbearable, back again In little old New York;" for from her ac- cent the speaker had also lived in that vicinity. Bronson whirled about to look at her. Demure and unaware of admiring glances, she sat at & nearby table. 'cOnspicuously simple" in her close fitting black suit and turban.
 Bronson struggled against an uncon- trollable desire to hear again that soft voicing of his mother tongue, then with a muttered, May I?" sank into a seat at the opposite side of the table. The restaurant being unduly crowded, his intrusion was calmly taken for grant ed. Happily absorbed, he gazed at the lovely, downcast face of his companion. and she. glancing up at last, smiled. A frank, engaging smile 1t was, like that of friendly child
 "The salt?' Bronson asked politely, while the girls smile deepened.
 '.So you, too, are American" she said. All the pentup longings of the mans home yearning soul broke forth at her question.
 "American-yes." he answered, "and if you could but know the joy 1t gives me merely to be again in the presence of an American! I might have sought out my countrymen here, suppose but"-he laughed shortly-"I did not recognize my need until heard your voice"
 The girl leaned impulsively forward. "I know" she breathed- "Oh, know! For weeks I've been fighting of the desire to go back. Sometimes it was almost too strong for me. I've got to stay here. you see. I must, until'-
 "Until," he prompted gently. The girl drew back, continuing her meal. Until l make good" she answered quietly.
 ''Student?" the man questioned. She nodded her head.
 'There are so many of us," she said ruefully, "'would be- artists. musicians mostly failuresr'
 And you?" wry smile. "Tm an art failure" she replied, with shrug of the shoulders.
 Bronson's quick glance was sympa- thetic.
 Perhaps not" he encouraged. Bet ter stick 1t out little longer and sec" She arose, drawing on her gloves, and stood looking now on the gloves, now on him.
 "I intend to-" she answered brightly
 With visible regret the author also arose.
 American," he entreated, but may not hope to see you again?"
 "Why notY" the girl carelessly re- sponded. ''I dine here every day"
 So 1t happened that the small table beneath the window came quite natu- rally to be place of meeting, a place for the exchange of simple condolences, for comforting recollections of home beloved scenes and home happy times. To the man this one hour was a sort of panacea for all the trials of a troubled day. About 1t his dreams centered as a reward for nightly hours of writing And the girls open pleasure in these meetings was a constant growing joy.
 "Do you know" she asked in her in- genuous way, 'I cannot get over the idea that I have known your face be- fore? It was strangely familiar from the first. and yet
 Then David Bronson knew that his hour of announcement had come. It had been a gratifying thing to hide for time from the paths of fame and to feel that his unknown personality had powers of its own to awaken in- terest and pleasure. With a sigh he drew forth his card and placed 1t be- fore her.
 David B. Bronson" the girl read aloud, while recollection widened in her eyes. -E.
 Not" she said in a tone of awe mot David Bronson, the author2"
 He nodded abruptly.
 And you are writing a book over here" she went on slowly, "a book with French setting perhaps and one of your wonderful American heroines r
 '4The heroine" he confessed, proves disappointment. She is so exactly what she seems to be-commonplace, no human heart interest"
 The girl turned wearily aside. His admission of greatness seemed all at once to put him far from her presump- ton of friendship.
 Look about you" she said. You'll find human heart stories among us aII."
 Bronson got hastily into his coat. Just this once." he begged, "allow me to walk with you"
 Heretofore this request had been re- fused Now the girl deliberated You may come" she agreed.
 Down the sunlit narrow street they went. crowds jostling her slim figure
 -Azt