Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1916-02-06
"HOMAS STURDIVENT
HILL stared gloomily from
his hotel window over the

geleS. In sudden wave OF home VIII
sickness it came to him that, with the
exception of Langdon, his lawyer,
there was not soul in the city with
whom he had even speaking ac-
quaintance.
Beyond the crowded thoroughfare r.
stretched Central Park, green and
gold in the California sunshine; but 4
it's cheerful beauty did not tend to y
lessen the gloom. Thomas, being
from Boston, regarded California's
boosted climate with sort of pa
thetic disapproval. In Boston the
fruit trees did not blossom in the
middle of March. He missed the sting of
the wind-driven sleet.
Thomas was marooned in Los Angeles,
not through any choice of his own, but
because certain suit involving corner
lot belonging to his family had drawn him
across the continent and kept him dang
ling while it hung fire in the courts.
Thomas hair was red. 1t was not only
red it was curly, and generously inter-
spersed with cross-currents and rapids.
To add further to his griefs, his nose was
sprinkled with a peppering of freckles and
his mouth was large and cheerful. Only
a certain usefulness of eye warned the
observing that within him dvelt spirit
out of keeping with his jovial exterior.
Thomas realized his discrepancies with
sickening conviction. He longed for the
devil-may-care attitude of mind that
would match his appearance; but in the
presence of strangers, especially those of
the opposite sex, his tongue became lead,
his smile a hollow mockery of himself.
Gloomily he scanned the amusement
column of a daily paper, and, deciding
on an attraction at an uptown theater,
strolled leisurely across the Park.
THERE was, it seemed, only the choice
between a seat in a box and one in the
gallery. His hair made the former OBJ
viously impossible. and he chose the gallery
as the lesser of two evils.
, The first act was we'll under way when
he entered, and he CROPPED the way to
his seat, in the dark, From series of
a.. giggles he gathered that the seat on his
right was occupied by a woman. and the
lights, flashing up at the end of the act,
confirmed the fact She was fairly young,
and possessed of sort of loud prettiness.
In her arms was a baby. To Thomas's in
experienced eyes it was, on the whole, the
usual kind of baby, still in what he mem
tally termed the googing stage. But
what struck him forcibly was the fact
that above its damp and puckered coun-
tenance was thatch of brilliant hair, hair
that, although sketchy and incomplete as
yet, gave every promise of rivaling his own.
The woman turned and regarded him.
"Gee!' she exclaimed in an audible
voice. "Your hairs just like the kid's!'
The fact seemed to fascinate her, and she
stared ,at him frankly. "Ain't that funny,
now?'' she inquired.
Thomas glanced around, and diScov-
cred that members of';he audience imme-
diately surrounding him were obviously
interested He blushed vivid crimson
and ignored her with an insouciance that
was the result of severe mental effort.
The woman continued to scrutinze
him.
"T's your own, amt it?' she asked,
and then, hurriedly: 90 course it must be.
This kids mother, she's got hair that jest
screams, N people allus say she dyes
it; but me, | SAYS nobody amt gOin' t.