The Washington times. [volume] (Washington [D.C.]) 1902-1939, 1918-10-20

bath. The hrst plunge, a SILVER,
then the worst was over. But you
must not think.
Dottye lived in a respectable lit
tie Harlem fat. The fat was not
what you might call luxurious, nor
was it unduly roomy. But it was
quite big enough for two, and the
quiet wall paper and mission fur
niture were a great improvement
on the furnished room, the ugly
pink walls and The Rock of Ages"
If Dottye had any regrets in con-
nection with her CASTOR resolutions,
she kept them to herself. II she
ever thought Of one John Parkins,
of Paris, Idaho, no one ever knew
Of it. She never bored Mr.. Maltbie
with her past, present, or her fu-
ture. She attended strictly to her
business, which was to please him.
This she did. He was most kind.
So when the month was up It
was he who suggested a dinner in
honor of their first anniversary.
That delirious dinner is still the
talk of the Tenderloin. The fame
thereof spread from the Battery to
the heights Of Harlem and beyond.
The finale was telegraphed from
Philadelphia to the Golden Gate,
from the Great Lakes to the Gulf
Of Mexico. Pdter fdmiliGs. through
out the land, sandwiched il be-
tween his Peerless Predigested
Poplets and his sprint for the eight
fourteen. On the strength Of It
Dottye received a vaudeville offer
that made the salary Of the Presi-
dent OF these United States look
like-that's another story.
The Cafe de la Paix was thronged
with the usual crowd. Jostling
one another pleasantly were conf
dence men, millionaires, journal
lists. actors. lumber kings, uncles
from the Golden West, young men
from everywhere except New York.
Several hours passed pleasantly.
The Cafe de la Paix took upon It.
self the intensely social appearance
of the semi-monthly meetings Of the
Improved Beneficial Order Of Anal
gamated Soda Shooters Miss Win
ton was exploring with childish in
terest the unusually extensive in
terror Of a lobster when Mr.. John
Parkins, of Paris, Idaho, put in his
Partisan and rather rural appear
ance. As Mr.. Maltbie later re-
marked. with his naive succulence.
to the excited young representative
of the New York Morning Wall:
"He looked like the concentrated
essence OF Way Down East
John strobe between the tables
heavily. He reered from side to
side. scanning the openly inter
ested patrons Of the cafe. As
Charles Garvice would remark, he
was the cvnosure Of all eyes. His
neat but nobby suit of black had
come from a pile in Zeb Jones's
General Merchandise Emporium.
With the black bow tie Of theatric
Bohemianism, it bespoke mourning.
His stubby, high-heeled yellow
boots, a weird-looking wart on
either toe. suggested neatly
wrapped hams. They lent an air
Of funereal levity to the occasion.
He came slowly toward where Dot
I've sat smiling. His approach, dig
nified as the DeshTosses street
ferry, left a trail of wordless won
der in its wake. He was as out Of
place in that cafe as a piece Of
white meat in a chicken pie.
Dottye watched his slow ap-
proach with fascinated eyes. Her
brain grew suddenly clear, as the
sky clears on a windy Winter night.
She knew instinctively that he was
coming after her. She realized
that his future happiness lay close
beside her future misery in the
nalm Of her hand. the overly man.
toured hand which held the silver
oyster fork. She was as self-con-
trolled as a Bowery policeman.
Splashing an alarmed oyster into
a glass of burning cocktail, Dottye
smiled up at John. In the interim
she had quite made up her mind.
When young Mr.. Parkins reached
the table where Dottye sat entirely
surrounded by bottles, glasses,
bread crumbs and Clarence Maltbie,
he lowered far above them.
"How are you, John?" she greeted
him.
Dottye wisely started in the fash
ionable school of suppressed emo
tin, founded by Mrs. Fiske, but con-
tinued by many followers possess
ing the dramatic ability of a Ber-
muda onion.
"Dottye," he said. ignoring both
Maltbie and her question, 1--we
come for you, to take you back to
Idaho"
You've come for me-" she re-
turned. stating a fact as evident as
the outcome of a musical comedy.
yes" he told her with Western
directness. I've come to take you
home. To take you away from all
this. / asked in Paris if you would
marry me. You knew how much