The Press., 1918-09-12
The Awakening
Copyright, 1918, by the Mcclure Newspa-
 per Syndicate.) s
By MINNIE M. TOWNSEND


 Myra, comfortably settled in the easiest ch9ir of the sitting room, laziIy waved slim white hand to her mothers cheery good-hy. and turning, toward the window watched the liVel., little body cross the street and joir i several other dear mother people on the corner. Myra laughed scOrnfully.
 "Tm surprised at mother; such il motley crowd, tall, short, fat, lean. rich and poor" >+
 Myra, however, failed to take note of the one connecting link among the women. Each one carried huge sew ing bag and everyone from old Mrs. | McCane's worn brown lining mon | StrOSity t0 the wealthy Mrs. Van i EatOn'S creation of satin and ribbon was OvertiOwing with it's burden of brown and gray yarn and partially | finished garments for Uncle Sans soldier boys.
 Myra yewned and turned laZily tO a hook in her lap. hut somehow she | could not get interested. A coming | party was uppermOSt in her mind and she was having rosy visions of her self in the new satin gown which she had ordered just that morning. She was wondering If she could get slippers to match the delicate hue of her dress material. and if she had better have | her hair done by a hair dresser or trust 1 tO her own nimble fingers to get just 1 the correct amount of wave into the glossy strands elf bronze. Pleasant reveries were interrupted by the in- i SiStent peal of the telephone bell. | Her eager greeting of her dearest 1 chum was cut short in mortified dis 1 may.
 "Cut out the party? Surely, you must be mistaken, DOra-why l or ! dered my dress today. On account of 1 the war? My soul. This old war makes me tired. don't see what this country l got into 1t for. anyhow. I wish tU l goodness I lived in WarleSS age Whats that-make comfort bags instead nf dance9 We'll of all the nOnsense. No, I won't help. Ii makes me tired. No, I said, Dora. By"
 MYra returned to her easy chair, p0uting dreadfully. She caught up the l book she had tried to read and flung | 1t to a far corner of the library table. | Her childish spite thus appeased, she. | slumped down into the luXurianr depths of the chair and sulked herself tr sleep. Her brother awakened her later by flinging the morning newspaper into her lap. Myra turned lazily to the nd fo Shinn talk first. Then she skinned the love lOrn letters and read the next chapter in thrilling serial of love and ad- venture. That diGeSted. she turned in bored fashion to the jokes.
 One or two rather scandalOus head lines caught her eye, but as far as the remainder of the paper was concerned 1t might just as well have been blank.
 Her brother finally turned wistful eyes toward the feminine heap in ehe easy chair.
 Awful, isn't it?" he inquired glum- ly.
 Myra surveyed him lazily. "What's awful, Bob?"
 Didn't you read the war news" he asked sharply.
 She grunted in disgust:
 "I should say not; hear enough of the old war. Why, just think, Bob, they've postponed our club party on account of the war, and I ordered my dress"
 "Myra !' There was a new note in her broth CTS voice. She glanced up quickly, and the expression on his face made her get slowly to her feet, her eyes wide and questioning. 1
 Don't you dare talk like that" he continued, huskily. "An old party and real men dying for their country and for right. Read that"
 Mechanically she took the sheet he held out to her and glanced over it carelessly, as though q cursOry look would reveal the cause of his pertur- batiOn. "DO you mean this, Bob? Why, it's only list of the casualties" she said, reprOvingly, as though such list | could be of no special interest to them.
 "Only! Read 'em, said"
 DumfOunded, she read them down Suddenly she stiffened, peered closer at
  bcwildered fashion, to her brother.
 "It can't be he, Rob; why. Bert was i only boy-just a boy-he can't be | dead"
 Tt is true. He was only a boy, but he died for his country, while you hate to give up an old party"
 She did not heed the reprOOf. Star In Iy nt ho f mi eho ing back over the year to their high school days. Albert Blake had gradu- ated in her class, just barely acquir- ing the necessary points to let him pass out into the world with diploma.
 Back over the years she slipped. In the grammar grades he was a big, Over- grown tease. Too silly to be really popular, he had laughed his way through the grades. The feminine DOT ti0n of the school had always steered clear of him, as wherever jolly good. natured face sh0ne there was always to be heard the squeal of hair-pulled lass.
 Myra's eyes were misty as she re. membered the boy. Suddenly she brightened. Across memorys page was coming a lOng-fOrgOtten incident. The one time when she had really ad- mired the lad and forgot his much-be- freckled cOuntenance. She turned ami to her brother, anxious to tell him of this one worthwhile thing Bert had done in her presence.
 Rob, Bert did have a brave nature, even though perhaps we didn't realize 1t at the time. remember one beauti- full summer day, when he and I were going home from school together. We were crossing 8 swampy field over a path. Suddenly a nasty, little green snake reared It's head just ahead of me in the path. Mortified, squealed ny IoudaSt Rort who uoS obosFnx |