The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1917-12-06
LETTERS OF
TWO WOMEN
Kate Comes Home to Poets.
BY ZOE BECKLEY.

Kate Comes Home to Poets
New York, Thursday night, Maize
Dear:
Why aren't mothers exactly as the
sentimental ballads picture them
dear, old, gentle, white~haired angels,
radiating love and mince piesi Mere
hearts to take refuge in; shoulders to
cry oni Why must they be so intelli-
force of character to express them
Mothers should be merely back
grounds. They insist upon being per-
sonalities.
Seriously, darling, I hope with all
my heart that events developed so
that you have not had to send your
mother back east. If it has come to
that, however, 1 think I shall Dor
row her to tell MY troubles to. I
wonder if she could understand how
L felt tonight when 1 came home
from a weeks visit to a friend in
Jersey, a Mrs. Audley, stupid and
restful and married to a million dol
lars.
1 had not told Paul was coming
| thought it would be fun to surprise
late and 1 didn't get to the house un-
til way past 10. 1 opened the door
softly, and as 1 stole down the hall
heard voices. male voices.
My dear, get this picture: On the
Lying room floor was a pile of sofa
pfllows-my flowered chintz pillows
that 1 made by hand-and reposing
peacefully thereon was youth,
asleep. All could see of him was a
tousled head of curly blond hair and
bare throat showing between the
edges of a crumpled shirt with afro
cious stripes.
On the couch was another figure
clad in what looked suspiciously like
one of my pink kimonos. This figure
was sitting on the edge of the uivan.
of In "A
removing its boots. In the kitchen
1 heard Pauis voice, accompanied by
the sound of sizzling en- the gas
range. Going to the kitchen door l
saw Paul and the weird looking person
with wild hair and a flowing necktie
cooking bacon and eggs.
Paul turned, saw me, and rushed
to take me in his arms.
why. dearest!" he cried, knocking
my hat asllew and erumpling me IN
he gasped. Then he started to pre-
sent his friends.
| This, dear, is Ludovic de Halcera,
one of my college pals, whom 1 STUN
bled over by lucky chance tonight at
Peggy's restaurant. Ludovic is the
greatest poet since Shakespeare"
/ tried to be cordial to Ludovic,
! but in my soul I wished his finger
nails had been cleaner. Paul went
on:
I'm the other room, Chickie, are
two wonderful lads, Rafaelo-I don't
] know his last name-and Steven Will
lowby! Steve has-is-er-was-.
that is. he's had a bit of trouble and
lost his money. And Rafaelo has been
doing some wonderful writing, prose
and poetry both. He's a waiter ovei
at Petrozzi's. But the world will hear
o. him yet, won't it, Raft, old son ?
-. Kate, darling-I wouldn't have
toted the boys home with me this way
if I'd any idea you would blow in to.
I night"
OF course there was a lot more
! Maizie; l won't bore you with it all
The fact was simply that Paul, in tbs
goodness of his heart, had befriende6
ose-those-well, 1 suppose they
were terribly wonderful and every.
thing, but, oh May, did have such E
feeling of mussiness or something
can't explain it OF course 1 insist &c
on their staying.
We managed somehow. But, dear
was so glad when they went. Pau
is a darling, but he is 500 differen
ii can't explain just what I mean
Write me SOON
Your same old KATIE.