Evening star., 1920-01-25

over tne SNOWY pdNcipOhS
pausing every few steps to look up
and down and shake her head In
helpless bewilderment, was to sup
pose also that she was dafry.
Helplessness Is a vine that clings.
Therefore, when a passerby asked IL
she could be of service, the old soul
enlisted her eyes
'Yes'm. Can you see yellow bird
flying anywhere around? 1t looks
like canary, but 1t Is just little
bunting bird that my grandson
caught on the Bladensburg road be-
fore he went to war. 1t got SO tame
it would peck crumbs from his mouth.
and the last thing he said to me was
Now, gramma, You take good
care of my buddie. because I'm com
ing back after him when get
through But he won't ever come
back, because he was killed. l was
letting the bird fly around the room
as usual thinking no harm could
come to him because / am Always
careful to keep the door shet to Keep
out the cold. But the latch must
have come unfastened somehow, for
1t flew wide open and Now they
are both gone and l haven't got no.
body nor nothing"
There are wise gentlemen visitors
in our midst who might tell grandma
that her grandson had come back
from the invisible continent after
his buddie, as promised. But the
thing that impressed the prosalc
passerby was that, while age anu
ugliness and poverty make a triple
trouble, there is a fourth which IS
worse-loneliness.
AN orchid of vampirish splendor
~ famed it's tongues of fire on the cor
sage of guest at a ball. Its sinister
charm SO hypnotized other women that
one of them ventured to inquire the
name of the strange flower--and where
it came from. The wearer was cordial
ly obliging.
"My husband, who is just home from
the Canal Zone, brought me the plant
with it's single bloom. 1t grows IN the
jungles of Panama, and is called the
Seventh Deadly Sim"
Which shows that old Spain knew its
catechism.
TT you shut your eyes and turn
around three times you will meet up
with the borderland mainland which
means that he lives between the Great
Sahara of Silence and the World OF
Sound Spade-people call him deaf. II
is such a narrow strip of borderland
that when the weather is fine and dry
he excursions into the place of voices
to hunt up music and friendly words
On stormy days he has to step into his
Sahara, and every time he goes he stays
longer and longer.
That last morning of mellow sunshine
woman met hm-had a date-in {
phonograph shop, sitting close to 6
machine with his eyes closed and thu
sort Of smile that made her know III
was listening with his soul. After th'
symphony had spun around to the las
ring the man opened his eyes ant
changed his smile to everyday friend
~ greeting. Inc woman Hdu SdNeu NV
whole dollars in dimes to buy her month
ly stock of records, and as he WAS ther
to help her select them because of hi
I knowledge of what was good, that woul
Z have been all there was to it, excep
that being a borderland man he ha
Y ideas that no ordinary citizen with tw
n good ears could ever hope to acquire
e Have you noticed that we, ourselves
n are only human records? And tina
= there is no knowing whether or not W
r are good or indifferent until we ar
h tried out on Times wheel? Some ar
PACED in society's section, while tn
e rest of us are catalogued, hit or mis-.
$ gay or sad as you chance to find u
f when tested in life's machine / wi
: say to you:
h I'VE ought to hear Mrs. Red Sea
n She must be grand, she costs So.
d But when we put her under til
: needle she is merely an operate gym
' mast, all thrills and high squeaks-
l. diamonds and fine feathers! Will
II there is never any knowing what til
II rest of us amount to until in the test
l. ing, we come across plain folk wit
H. genuine red seal souls tucked undt
II the ordinary cheap disk We al