The Washington herald., 1920-12-07
An Q. Henry Story
(Continued from Yesterday
A Municipal Report

CONTINUED from Yesterday0
I gave him two one-dollar bills.
AS sI handed them over 1 noticed
that one of them had seen parlous
| times. Its upper right-hand corner
was missing, and 1t had been torn
through in the middle, but Joined
again. A strip of blue tissue paper,
pasted over the split, preserved its
| negotiability.
Enough of the African bandit for
the present; 1 left him happy!3lifted
the rope and opened the creaky
gate.
The house, as said, was a she'll.
A paint brush, had not touched it
( in twenty years. / could not see
| why strong wind should not have
bowled it over like a house of cards
until 1 looked again at the trees
that hugged it elose-the. trees that
saw the battle of Nashville and still
drew their protecting branches
around 1t against storm and enemy
and cold.
Azalea Adair, SO years old. white
haired. a descendant of the cava-
liers, as thin and frail as the house
she lived in, robed in the cheapest
and cleanest dress 1 ever saw, with
an air as simple as a queens, re-
! ceived me.
The reception room seemed a mile
square, because there was nothing
in it except some rows of books, on
unpainted white-pink bookshelves,
, cracked marble-top table, rag
rug, a hairless horse hair sofa and
two or three chairs. Yes, there was
a picture on the wall. a colored
crayon drawing of a cluster of pan
trait of Andrew Jackson and the
pine-cone hanging basket, but they
were not there.
Azalea Adair and had conver-
sa tfon, a little of which will be re-
peated to you. She was product
of the old South, gently nurtured
in the sheltered life. Her learning
was not broad, but was deep and of
splendid originality in its somewhat
narrow scope. She had been edu-
Gated at home, and her knowledge
of the world was derived from in
ference and by inspiration. OF such
is the precious, small group of es-
sayists made. While she talked to
me / kept brushing my fingers, try
ing, unconsciously, to rid them
guiltily of the absent dust from the
half calf backs of Lamb, Chaucer,
Hazlitt, Marcus Aurelius, Montaigne
and Hood. She was exquisite, she
was a valuable discovery. Nearly
everybody nowadays knows too
much-oh, so much too much--of
real life.
could perceive clearly that Aza-
lea Adair was very poor. A house
and a dress she had, not much else,
I fancied. So, divided between my
duty to the magazine and my loyal
ty to the poets and essayists who
fought Thomas in the valley of the
Cumberland, listened to her voice.
which was like harpsichord's. and
found that I could not speak of
contracts. In the presence of the
nine Muses. and the three Graces
one hesitated to lower the topic to
two cents. There would have to be
another colloquy after I had re-
gained my commercialism. But
spoke of my mission, and o'clock
of the next afternoon was set for
the discussion of the business prop
osition.
Your town." I said, as I began
to make ready to depart (Which Is
the time for smooth -generalities),
Seems to be a quiet, sedate place.
A home town, should say, where
few things out Of the ordinary ever
happen"
1t carries on an extensive trade
in stoves and hollow ware with the
West and South, and its Touring
mills have daily capacity Of more
than 1000 barrels.
Azalea Adair seemed to reflect.
'T have never. thought Of 1t that
way" she said. with kind OF sin
cere intensity that seemed~-to be-
long to her. isn't IL in the still,
quiet places that things do happen?
/ fancy that when God began to
create e earth on the first Mon
day mnrning one could have leaned
out on.'s window and heard the
DROPS Of mud splashing from His
trowel as He built up the everlast-
ing hil1g. What did the noisiest
,DF0fmaf IN frA. NrnpIl-T 49, n f1.a