New Britain herald., 1917-11-13
Why Madgc's Brain Kept Repeating Over and Over Again "What
 Does Dicky Intend to Do?"

 Does Dicky Intend to Do?"
 Alfred Durkee is going to enlist" I repeated the words mechanically. Indeed, I am not sure that I fully comprehended what Dicky had said. My brain was so occupied with specu- lation concerning my husbands atti- tude toward the war that it refused to register any other thought.
 He had come home upon the last night train with the news of ous coun- try's entrance into the world war Something in his manner as we chung to each other, awed by the tidings, had given me the idea that he meant to enlist immediately, and in the dark ness had silently fought out my bat tie against my selflshness until I stood ready to do my part
 Then he had discussed the different phases of the news in a manner as detached and impersonal as if he, himself had no personal, interest in the subject. The difference between his first manner and his later de- meanor was so puZZling that when he finally wound up his rather rambling
  Durkee was going to enlist I'm afraid my manner was irritatingly vacant as I repeated his words.
 Whats the matter, Madge?" my husband demanded. You act as if you'd had-why, I don't believe you even heard what I said!"
 The irritation in his voice reused me. With an effort I put aside the sombre, puzzling thoughts which had possessed me.
 Dicky Is Irritated.
 II am rather dazed by it all," I admitted. but I am ready now to do anything you wish. You said something about going to see Mrs. Durkee, didn't your"
 1T did," Dicky returned laconically
 "Of course, I'll go right over today if you think best, but aren't you afraid 1t will be an intrusion? know if I were in her place I shouldn't want to see any one.'
 ''Now don't trot out that stunt of Judging every one by yourself" Dicky replied, and there was more than a trace of irritation in his voice this time. Because you want to crawl off like a crab into shell or a hermit into a cave when anything's the mat ter Is no indication other women don't want sympathy. Little Mrs. Durkee will be all broken up by this She worships Ali, you know-he's the only child she ever had. And she's cling ing sort of little creature. She'll need some woman, and she hasn't a relative within B. thousand miles,
 "1'll go over in the morning" promised. And although dread1ng the task intensely, kept my word.
 am very fond of gentle, laughter loving, little Mrs. Durkee, and I felt as if could not bear to see the 1nis- cry I must find on her pretty child like face.
 But to my great surprise, after waiting until was sure Alfred had left for the city, I went over to her home, feeling as if my feet were lead en every inch of the path. But she met mo at the door with the same cheery snaile she always has for me. Her pretty hair was carefully coiffed, and her face had been cold and powdered so skufu1ly that no trace remained of the tears she must have shed. Only her eyes betrayed the depth of anguish that was hers.
 "How Proud Am.''
 T suppose Dicky told you that AL fred is going" she said, after she had chatted inconsequently with me for several minutes.
 Yes, he told me when he came home on the late train," I returned. T was afraid you would think I was : intruding if I came over this morn ing, but I couldn't stay away"
 She came over impetuously and kissed me.
 You're a dear!" she said, but don't say anything sympathetic to me or I shall begin to cry. Ali told me last night when he got home. He didn't intend to do it until this morn ing, but as I was sitting up, reading he told me last night. I managed to keep from crying until after he went to bed, and I got up early and spent a full hour massaging and powdering and prinking so he wouldn't see how bad I looked. Of course, I didn't fool him very much, but did the best could. I was bound if he could drop his career and leave me and every thing for his country I ought to be able to keep the tears back as my part. And oh, how proud l am of himl''
 110T VOlC0 "a1 IeSOnduL dS SIc ul- tered her proud little cry, and I gazed amazed at the transformation in the little woman. She had always been to me the epitome of everything that p4s feminine end cuddly and cling ing, and hero she was acting her part as worthily as any warriors mother of an older, sterner time. Even the feminine artifices she had employed to hide the traces of her tears were ennobled by the patriotic fervor and AETNA BOWLING