Harrisburg telegraph. [volume] (Harrisburg, Pa.) 1879-1948, 1918-10-15
Little Talks by
Beatrice Fairfax
BY Beatrice Fairfax

The lady with the matchless com
plexion at the Atlantic City hotel
crowded the world war off the map
as a topic of conversation.
The men would be comfortably
seated on the piazza, their chairs
tilted at just the proper angle to
discuss long distance strategy in
winning the war, some one would
I be holding forth on barrage-when
| The Lady with the Complexion"
would come along, and the war as an
issue would fade away in a NUT
tered chorus of: Never saw any
thing like it in my life!" It's too
| good to be true!" Looks like one
of the figures in a hair-dresser's win
| dow!"
The woman did not say much.
but they looked at the Lady with
the Complexion" from every angle.
They made it point to meet her
I in broad daylight, under the scorch-
mig sun that flooded the Boardwalk
They studied her under the cleo
trio light. One of them got a moon
light view and said the matchless
skin looked queerer than ever. And
an enterprising lady from Chicago
got a snapshot, because, as she
said, the camera sometimes caught
things that escaped the naked eye.
The Lady with the Complexion"
bowed to every one, but never
smiled at any one. Never became
impatient when the waiter let twen-
ty minutes elapse between serving
soup and fish. Did not look dis
tressed when the sailing party was
four hours late and every one sup
posed they had been drowned. In
short, she never permitted herself
the luxury of looking human un-
der any circumstances.
AS far as the milk of human kind
ness was concerned or the vitriol of
human anger for that matter, she
might have been a statue of Buddha.
statue, in fact, could have taken
lessons in repose from her.
And strange to say, despite the
milk and roses of her skin, rich,
bronzy hair and great regularity of
feature, the lady was. not at all
good-looking. One of the men said
she had a sort of embalmed look
that made her too spooky. And one
of the women remarked: she
makes me think of those perfectly
canned fruits that grocery shops
use as window displays"
And so it went all day long.
Then one day a genially battered
looking woman, presumably in the
late forties, turned up at the hotel.
In repose her face was a network
of lines, but when she laughed or
was interested she looked like
girl.
All Sparkle and Animation
This woman was all sparkle-en-
thusiasm and, somehow or other.
when the Lady with the Com
plexion" was in sight, motionless as
a of brio n h,-aa
consciously looked at that wrinkled
little woman, who was as efferves-
cent as a bottle of champagne. And
some one said she made such an
agreeable antidote, after looking at
the canned beauty.
1t soon became patent to the knit
ting cabinet on the piazza and its
male counterpart, the long distance
strategy board, that there was some
connection between these two wo-
men that were as the poles of femin-
ity.
She of the complexion regarded the
wrinkled one with an expression
more nearly approaching terror
than she had yet displayed. And
the wrinkled one seemed to flash
back an answer to the others S. o.
S., You have nothing to fear"
The mystery grew, the tension got
on the nerves of the knitting cabi-
net and the long distance strategy
board-it was like spending ones
vacation at a thrilling movie with
the denouement never in sight. The
Lady with the Complexion" was be-
ginning to lose some of her poise.
and the knitting cabinet piled the
wrinkled one with toasted marsh
mallows and chocolate creams, but
she wouldn't say a word, except
that she and the lady -Buddha had
met before.
The Advent of the Daughter.
Every one stopped reading de-
tective storiess the movies palled,