Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1918-10-13

tried to throw up picture Of Herm
coming back with a wife: most likely
a faded. dried up little old maid who'd
yed all her srd lfe way up on the coast
might be- How would she look sitting
In the managers box up on the Cherry
Blossom roof, or taking dinner in the
grill among all them flossy dressed
think of some of Herms dizzy lady
friends. or what would they think Of
her?
mo" says I to myself. ut can't be
DONE"
Course, don't mean 1 worried my
self sick over It, / don't take things
as hard as that. specially when they
amt any closer than this was. In q
day or SO about all l remembered was
that Herm Pickett had started off to
do something weird. And a week or
ten days later. when gets this phone
call from him. had to think back
hard to make the connection. He
wants me to come up that evenin'.
Il got something to show you," says
he.
And as hung up the receiver let's
done itw says l.
dens finds Herm at his old post out
front, and alone.
Well" says !, "is it case of
wishin'' YOU happy days?'
he shakes his head solemn.
on. says ], "she thought 1t was
too late. eh?"
Without answerin' that he unlocks
him into the private office. And when
he's settled himself in the big leather
chair and lighted fresh cigar he re-
marks: 1T was too late, Shorty"
Eth" says L you don't mean she
Yes" says he. The day before
got there. I was in time to see about
the funeral and so on, but that's all
She-she'd got tired of waiting"
we didn't say anything more, either
gins again. But I'm glad I went"
says he. Il shall always be glad 1 did
that much. Else l wouldn't have
known. Women are wonderful. Shorty;
that Is, some of 'em. And Maria Todd
We'll. I don't know as l can tell you
the half. I amt sure I quite get the
Whoie OF 1t myself. lit beats hell
what some women are"
Ihen waits while he puffs thought
ful for a spell. until he goes on. ut
was was an SO, shorty" says Herm about
her waiting, and about the picture
rugs. I saw some of 'em. Just as
l4onnie said There was something
else, though: something he didn't
know about, nor any one but her.
Not even the neighbors across the
Ao"N' AMY Gil SHou6AL SIl0 was d
little cracked But who amt, a little3
You see Shorty, it was just poor,
weather. beaten little shack, snug
gled In among the rocks there by the
shore. A little bit of yard In. front,
a few flowers. a big spruce at the
OF kitchen, where she cooked and
worked and slept. The front part
was bigger-kind of q parlor. She
had 1t fxed up real nice-white cur
hair chairs with tides on 'em, and .
little parlor organ: Only her best
friends was ever asked in there. She
called 1t the ROOM And across one
side was hung up one of these old
fashioned blue and white bedspreads.
thing behind it, until that morning
when 7 come and one of the women
was helping me fix things up for
for the funeral.
pulled 1t one side. And then saw
what she'd been doing all them long
winters when she'd been waitin'. It
was big thing, nearly as big as the
bedspread. Another picture rug. But
not like the others. This showed the
as 1t might be-vines and flowers all
over It, smoke pourin' out of both
chimneys. neat little white fence
all around, boat pulled up on the
SHOTc ana at tic gate d man ana q
woman-clinched fond. She has on
white dress. and white veil over
her sunny hair. Pink roses in the
veil. He is tall and dark and swell
looking. Yoa might not guess. Shorty,
but the woman was meant for her,
and the man-for me. A note pinned
to it said so.
"You see. she'd worked 1t all out
her dream of what might be. Years
and years she must have worked at it,
believing it would come true. And at
written the note. If / didn't come, it
said, she wanted the thing put away
where nobody would see 1t. But If
did come, no matter when, I was to
have it. and she hoped everybody in
the world would see it, so they'd know
she was right. Now. what do you
think of that, Shorty?"
I don't know just what I did say I
got out something. 1t was beyond me.
Besides. was starin' at Herm Pickett
Was this the same Herm thought I'd
known?
And then all of sudden he bangs
his big fist on the desk and breaks
out with: by Cad, Shorty, they're
goin' to see it, too! Come"
follows him out into the inner lob
by. and there, framed elaborate in
beveled gold near a foot wide, with
about hundred hooded electric bulbs
fioodin' it with a blaze of light, and
hung where the thousa nds that pour
in and out can't miss II, is Maria
Todd's hooked rug dream.
them folks who stream into Ouija Gar
dens to howl at custard pie comedy
and chuck1e over old slap-stick acts.
Huess Herm don't know either. or care.