Grainger County news. (Rutledge, Tenn.) 1917-current, 1919-07-03

-" 1Nt1NAg ~ NANIH va hAA
Mrs. Stanley Lee reside on a ranch
near Cody, Wyo. Every year they
journey over the intervening space on
u swift limited and make their obei-
sance to the ~grinning slave.
Ebony black, with an orange smile,
he stands ever patiently bearing aloft
on his flattened palms a woven basket
Of ~gorgeously colored tropical fruits.
Qulvering heat waves rise around his
stalwart form, but 10 such a temporal
ture he lnherits immunity. The dark
city kitchen with its dismal outlook
steals something Of the spirit of the
Thousand and One Nights from his
colorful presence.
For three years now have Mr.. and
Mrs. Lee made the pilgrimage TO this
shrine. And just four years and two
months ago the events took place,
grateful memory of which brings them
back.
In those days Mrs. Stanley was
Evelyn Brooks, fashion artist for the
Standardized Pattern company, and
Stanley was making his first ranch
mans business trip East. He not
only belonged to the West, but looked
1t, for he was tall and broad, with the
keenly interested eyes of the plains,
man, and his sartorial preferences
ran to corduroy, soft shirts and the
like. So he was dressed at nine
o'clock on this morning dis he ran
down the two flights of stairs which
led from his aunt's apartment to the
basement kitchen in the house on
barrow street.
Aunt Mag vas all right and q good
sport, Stanley was thinking on the way
down, even If she had Mortified the
Cody folk last summer, driving to town
dressed in a queer, shapeless garment
Of bright green, with sandaled feet and
f1oppy hat, embroidered with impossi-
Bile flowers. He grinned as he recalled
the commotion she had caused in the
post Office. But all the same, this way
of living got his goGt-staying up most
of the night and sleeping until noon,
Hike q bat.
-Four hours after his usual break
fact time, and not a sound from his
aunt's room! Her last words before
bidding him good night had been:
"Stan, dear If you get hungry before
I'm up in the morning, just u down
stairs and cook yourself something.
There is a community kitchen down In
the basement and you'll find my things
on a shelf labeled with my name. Help
| yourself"
Stan didn't exactly like the idea Of
fussing around In some n else's
house, but he was desperately hun
| CRY; so he tried a door that looked as
If 1t might open into a kitchen. 1t
did, but the room was so gloomily
dark that he lighted the gas. Just
then the door bell rang.
Stanley stood still and listened, but
! there was no sound of steps along the
bare floor of the hall, and again it
rang. SO he raj up the basement
| stairs and opened the door. On the
steps stood a girl. She was quite
| good to look upon, dressed in an uE-
usual shade of blue-green, with hat
to match, trimmed with small flowers
of many colors.
The young woman appeared perhaps
a bit surprised when this big young
man opened the door, but remarked
In q quite ordinary tone of voice: II
came to paint over the kitchen stove"
Now, Stanley knew enough, from his
short experience of this casual, bohe-
milan life his aunt led, to be prepared
for the unexpected, but at this strange
announcement his mouth half opened
and he looked quite idiotic, for no
words came from it. In the first place
it was Sunday morning, and in the sec.
ond the girl was not only well, but
extensively dressed.
Handsome young women In costly
clothes coming around on the Sabbath
to do a job Of house painting were ut
terly outside his experiences.
STAINS thoughts were becoming even
more hopelessly muddled when the girl
spoke again: 81 left my materials at
the basement door and I will go and
get them If you don't mind letting me
in that way-would your And as
Stan seemed still to be in a sort of
trance, she added: miss Sanderson
expects me, but / presume she hasn't
arisen yet" And she ran down the
steps.
Stanley recovered enough to close
the door, make his way downstairs
again and admit this unaccountable
visitor at the basement entrance. She
knew the landlady, evidently. so II
must be all right. He helped, as 8
matter Of course, with the brushes
and pals, but still remained tongue
tied.
When they gained the kitchen the
young woman asked Stan to bring the
s%tepladder from the laundry, and pro
ceeded to remove her hat and coat
When he returned with the ladder the
girl stood on the far side of the room
gazing at the painted area of wall di
rectly above the set-in range.
"You see," she said, "these wall:
are such a horrible, gloomy color, ant
the agent just won't do another thing
to the house. Miss Sanderson cam
afford to do them over herself, so
offered to paint something colorful NJ
there. Don't you think fruit would bt
nicer"