The Washington herald., 1920-11-13


parlor chsrades. 1t lasted two
weeks and then came TO a sudden
end.
OF course Mrs. O'Brien favored the
{ match as soon as Dry Valleys in
tentions were discussed. Being the
mother of a woman child. and there
fore a charter member of the
Ancient Order of the Rat-trap, she
/ joyfully-decked out Panchita for the
sacrifice. The girl was temporarily
: dazzled by having her dresses
4 heightened and her hair piled up on
her head. and came near forgetting
/ that she was only a slice of cheese.
II was nice, too, to have as good a
match as Mr.. Johnson paying you at
, tentions and to see the other girls
/ fiuttering the curtains at their win
dows to see you go by with him.
Dry Valley bought a buggy with
yellow wheels and a fine trotter in
San Antonio. Every day he drove
, out with Panchita- He was never
seen to speak to her when they were
walking or driving. The conscious
ness OF his clothes kept his mind
busy; the knowledge that he could
4 say nothing of interest kept him
dumb; the feeling that Panchita was
7 ~ hobPg-
! He took her to parties and dances.
and to chuych. He .tried-oh. no
man ever tried so hard to be young
as Dry Valley did. He could not
dance. but he invented a smile which
he wore on these joyous occasions, a
smile that, in him. was as great a
concession to mirth and gaiety as
turning handsprings would be in an
other. He began to seek the COM
pany Of the young men in the town
even OF the boys. They accepted
him as a decided damper. for his at
tempts at sportiveness were so
forced that they might as well have
essayed their games in a cathedral.
Neither he nor any other could esti-
mate what progress he had made
with Panchita.
The end came suddenly in one
day. as often disappears the false
afterglow before a November sky
and wind.
Dry Valley was to call for the
girl one afternoon at 6 for a walk.
An afternoon walk in Santa Rosa
was a feature of ones wardrobe.
So Dry Valley began gorgeously to
array himself. and went over 90 the
io'Brien cottage. As he neared the
porch on the crooked walk from the
gate he heard sounds of revelry
within. He stopped and looked
through the honeysuckle vines in
the open door.
Panchita was amusing her young
er brothers and sisters. She wore
n mans clothes-no doubt those OF
the late Mr.. O'Brien. On her head
was the smallest brothers straw
-
paper band. On her hands were
tapping yellow cloth gloves. rough
ily cut out and sewn for the mas
querade. The same material COW
cred her shoes, giving them the SEM
blance of tan leather. High collar
and flowing necktie were not
omitted.
Panchita was an actress. Dry VAL
ley saw his affectedly youthful gait,
his limp where the right shce hurt
his forced smile. his awkward simu-
.lation of a gallant air. all repro
duced with startling fidelity. Fsr
the first time a mirror had been held
up to him. The confederation OF
one of the youngsters calling, Nam
ma, come and see Pancha do like
Mr.. Johnson" was not needed.
As softly as the caricatured tans
would permit, Dry Valley tiptocc
back to the gate and home again.
Twenty minutes after the time
appointed for the walk Panchits
tripped demurely out her gate in 8
thin. trim white lawn and sailor
hat. She strolled up the sidewalk
and slowed her steps at Dry Val
ley's gate, her manner expressInI
wonder at his unusual delinquency
Then out OF his door and down
the walk strode-not the polychro.
matte victim OF a lost summertime
but the sheepman. rehabilitated. He
wore his old grey wooden shirt.
lopen at the throat his brown duck
trousers stuffed into his run-over
boots. and his white felt sombrerC
on the back of his head. Twenty
years or fifty he might look; Dry
Valley cared not His light blue
eyes met Panehita's dark ones witt
n cold fash in them. He came a.
far as the gate. He pointed with
his long arm to her house.
Go home" said Dry Valley. -Gt
home TO your mother wonder
iightnin' don't strike a fool lik,
me. Go home and play in the sand
What business have you got ca,
vortfn' around with grown nenf