Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1917-11-25

that there had been such a party some
time or other. TIL admit that wasn't
a place Of this size. but it's all I had.
I must have walked miles. readin' the
signs on the stores, pushfn' my way
through the crowds and finally drop
pin into fairly clean-lookin res
taurant for dinner. Half way through
the gouiash and noodles had this
bright thought about consultin the
phone book The cashier that let me
have 1t eyed me suspicious as I props 1t
agains the sugar bowl and starts In
with the AS.
Ever try readin' a telephone direc-
tory straight through? BY the time
I'd got through the Ms I'd had to or
der another cup OF coffee and sec
waitress was gettin' uneasy. Shed
just showed my check at me for the
third time. and was addin' a glass of
wooden toothpicks. when / lets out this
excited stage whisper
''sobowski" says I, grabbin' the
book.
The young lady in the frilled apron
rests her thumbs on her hips dignifled
and shoots me a naughty glance.
Ring OF. young Teller" says she.
Not so. Clarice." says I. His FIRST
name is Anton. and he used to run a
shine parlor in the arcade Of tho Cor
rugated buildin', New York. N. Y"
It's a small world. amt it?'' says
just as you like"
Clarice got her tip all right and
loaned me her pencil to write down
Anton's street number.
A stocky. bow-legged son Of Kosci-
uszko. built close to the ground. and
with neck on him like truck horse.
as remembered Anton. But the hot
test kind of a sport. Used to run a
pool on the ball games and made
ways had a roll with him. He'd take a
nickel tip from me and then bet a guy
in the next chair so to IS the
Giants would score more'n three runs
tomorrow's game. That kind.
Must have been two or three years
back that Anton had told me about
some openin' he had to go in with a
brother-in-law up in Bridgeport.
Likely I didn't pay much attention at
the time. Anyway, he was missin'
soon after; and II hadn't been in the
habit Of calm him Old Sobstuff I'd
have forgotten that name Of his en-
tirely. But seem it there in the book
anton Sobowski, saloon" was the way
IT was listed. So he was runnin' a suds
parior. Ell? Well. 1t wasn't likely he'd
know much about labor troubles, but it
When l came to trail down the street
number. though. blamed If 1t amt within
half a block OF our branch works
And, sure enough. in a little office be-
yond the bar, Ieanin' back luxurious in a
swivel-chair. and displayin' a pair of
baby-blue armlets over his shirt sleeves.
/ discovers Mr.. Sobowski himself. 1t
amt any brewery-staked hole-in- the-walI
he's boss of. either. It's the Warsaw
Cafe, bar and restaurant, all Cutlery and
gorgeous. with lace curtains in the front
windows, red, white and blue MOSQUITO
nettin' draped artistic over the frosted
mirrors. and three busy mixers behind the
mahogany bar.
Anton has fieshed up considerable since
he quit jugglin' the brushes, and he's
lost a little Of the good-natured twinkle
from his wide-set eyes. He glances up at
me sort Of surly when first steps into
the ONCE; but the minute takes of the
straw lid and ducks my head at him, he
let's loose a rumbly chuckle.
ut Is that Torchy. hey?" says he
well. well! It don't fade any, does III"
mot that kind Of dye" says I. Flows
the boy?"
me-" says Anton. rob. fne like silk.
How you like the place. hey?''
enthused over the Warsaw Cafe: and
when he found I was still with the Cor
rugated. and didn't want to touch him for
any coin. but had just happened to be in
town and thought I'd look him up for
old times sake-well. Anton opened up
considerable.
what" says he They send you out :?
You must be comm up?"
only private sec. to Mr.. Ellins," says
J. hut he chA0eD me around Q Ioo4