The Topeka state journal. [volume] (Topeka, Kansas) 1892-1980, 1918-12-16
EVENING STORY
Plans for Peace.
uY JANE OSBORN.

Always luSeTeu IN TUG WAShST Shoif
of the sun parlor after breakfast. but
this morning there were more loiter~-
ers than usual. and they were talking
in accents that showed keen interest.
And that interest had been aroused by
head lines in the morning papers that
indicated that the end OF the world
war. II not in sight. was at least SOME
thing that one dared dream about.
Il suppose Miss King will have to
come down on her board, a little
weazen-faced old lady. noted fSr her
miserlineSa. was saying.
well, there's mo usS my saving any
more pits. I suppose" sighed an
other. and a third: "At least, they
won't have any excuse for sweetening
che cranberry sauce with molasses. 1
didn't like to object before. 1t didn't
seem loyal, but nowI certainly"
Doris May,who had-lingered on her
way 10 her volunteer work at Red
Cross. but who nevertheless was turn
ink her time to account with sock
knitting. had at this point emitted
little stifled scream that cut short the
last remark and focused the eyes OF
the lingerers on her.
Doris. twenty four, and sweet of
face and the youngest member by far
of the King esta blishment. blushed
with embarrassment. She had not ex-
not really want to explain.
II was just thinking" she explained,
however. 1T suddenly occurred to
me that when the war was over there
would be no more socks to knit and
no more canteens to work for nor
conservation kitchens to help with,
nor liberty bread to bake--and, we'll,
I vas beginning to feel sorry and that
made ms scream.NI guess. 1t seemed
SO wicked to have anything but the
happiest feelings that it is all over.
truly shall miss the knitting-"
well, am sure shan't," snapped
ono Of the sour-visaged members of
the establishment who had, during the
course of the war, managed to knit
two whole pairs Of socks and. a
sweater. I'm quite exhausted, I as
sure you. and nothing but q winter in
Florida will undo the damage all this
knitting has done my nerves."
Anyway, you needn't stop knitting +"
another one of the company was say
ing. Soldiers aren't the only people
who wear socks. I had a cook once
an awful creature she was too-and
her husband was a teamster and he
wore knit socks. I Know, because she
used to knit the socks in the kitchen
during time that I was paying her to
work for me-
"But don't know any teamsters,"
laughed Doris. REALLY didn't mean
am so happy to think that it really
is going to end some time, only 1t will
seem stupid going back to the bridge
parties and teas and things that we
used to spend SO much time on 0efore
the war" & ig
Doris went about her work at Red
Cross that day and at canteen that
afternoon with less than usual of her
natural cheerfulness. She was vexsd
| with herself to think that she could
| have any selfish regrets-when she
| knew that in her heart she felt only
the deepest OF joy>at the news-of pos
| sible peace. p
That evening Capt. Robert Bicknell
! came into the boarding house from the
encampment five miles away where
since his return FROM France he had
been acting as instructor. He was
seized by the xeoterie OF those who
fingered in the drawing room after
| dinner.
Somehow it seemed as il his opinion
concerning the outcome of peace talk
would be of more weight since he had
| come fresh from military encamp-
| ment AS a matter of fact the fact
! that he had come from the encamp-
| ment made him especially reticent
| about discussing it-that is, before the
group of Miss Kings boarders In the
| drawing ROOM A
1t was to escape this assemblage
that Hc>pcSScu AOIlS IL tdkt u StTOli
down the small town street with him.
| But people notice So" protested
Doris. You know how those women
babble. and it was only two nights ago
that you were here before"
Yes" agreed the captain, .'but per-
| haps there won't be many more nights.
Inf not going to annoy you asking you
| the old question. Y guess you made
yourself about as clear to me as any
girl could: know you're not the
kind OF girl that will accept a man just
because he keeps at her and I'm not
the kind OF man that would want a
woman to marry him just because he
| did nag her. But I may be leaving
| camp soon. and I just have to talk
things over with you. u>toid me
and 1 value your advice. may be
taking a leap in the dark, but I have
been thinking things over and 1 know
now that I can't &c. on the way things
\ were before the war.
Then I was content to be cashier
here in the bank. Honestly. do you
know. Doris. when I first saw the
paper this morning and realized that
peace was coming perhaps before
get back to France. of course my first
and then had the selfish feeling
of regret.
ct seemed to see myself in the bank
| again, spending my days in the dull
monotony here In this town. didn'i
find it dull then, but since I've beer
leading the Me Of a soldier / see
things differently.
"Of course I'd be slad to stick
around years--ten- years, the rest OF
my life-if J thought in that way ]
could win you eventually. But know
you have made up your mind. Well, ]
! was making plans, and I was think
ing that as soon as war is over III
sell out what interest I have In prop,
| erty here and make for the West.
spent a little time on a sheep ranch
in Wyoming once, and l know a fel.
4 low out there that could help me buy
in to advantage. So I'm going tt
make for the wilds as soon. as evel
fpeace comes. whether 1t is next weel
! or next year. I wanted to tell yor
land ask you If you thought vasn't
/ right.
4 1T hope you don't think I. was q
brute for feeling that 9nirit Of regret ,