Evening star., 1920-08-08
HEARD AND SEEN

Visitors to the National Capital cer-
tainly have some queer ideas ABOUT
things they hear and see here.
One day last week man ana
woman stopped in the corridor OF the
city post office building. They were
plainly on their way from Union sta
ton to see the sights"
They stood in front OF the Dronze
tablet recently unveiled by city post
office workers to commemorate tneir
sixty Or more comrades VINO paI.ici,
pated in the world war Three goio
star names are on the tablet indi-
eating that these men gave their lives
in defense of their country.
Clerks and carriers at the post Of
fee are mighty proud of that tablet.
Indeed, there proba bly, isn't a hner
one in the city today; t But sheS heStsd @Gui9 ~
they could have heard now the
woman got it mixed up
Isn't it too bad she breathed, to
think that only three survived out OF
all that liSt?"
There is a little girl out in Ken
sington, Md, who has decided that
Sunday school is much too much for
her.
She attended her first three Sundays
without a murmur. but came back
from the third with firm resolve
never to go again.
But, why don't you want TO go!
asked her mother.
The child did not answer. But after
some coaxing the reason was secured.
The little girl was sensitive Her
Impressions were vivid. Perhaps
many older people can sympathize
with her viewpoint.
Well, mother" she said. 'the first
Sunday Lazarus died. The next Sun
day John the Baptist died. Now
Jesus is dead It's too much"
Happy Is the man who has the
sense of humor and can always see
the funny side of thing. Take that
colored man working on a downtown
building in process of construction.
Painters were putting black paint on
steel beams and girders.
The colored man. who was a very
black colored man, was at work down
in the excavation. He was saunter-
ing around. when all of q sudden
Sqush. as the funny papers would
phrase it. A bucket of black paint
had overturned, and the contents
fallen all over the man below. That's
the usual fate Of the nians6 man 6el9w; 3S,o,sb
the paint. guess all I'll need is
new shirt. All certainly is glad dat
wasn't tah."
No matter how high a presidential
candidate rises, 1t is a safe bet that
he will never be able to get as much
real fun out of life as do the chill
dren playing fire engine"
Fire engine houses and their occu-
fhA dn1 ioh af
children, now as always, and the
motorization of engine companies
has even added to the glamour Of
the fire companies.
Prancing horses have given way to
strident engines, but the rush of the
shrill Shrek of the motor vehicles.
And the children play fire engine"
1t makes a good game. Any. old toy
wagon will serve the purpose, and in
pinch a simple board will make an
adequate fire engine. It's the fmag-
ination that is the thing. And the
boys-nearly always small boys
have plenty of it.
Put Billy on the front seat and
Tommy on the back. and let 'er go!
Ding, ding, ding. ding!" shouts
Billy, while Tommy makes a mys-
at once for siren. 1t may not sound
much like a siren to the conserva-
tive, but to the little radicals Of
childhood it is very much of siren.
Who has forgotten those old. days?
Maybe you used to play Indian" in
the weedy lots that have been built
upon these many years. Maybe you
used to shout Bang. bang!' You're
dead" But it was all the same
Playing Indian or playing fire engine.
or airplane, the spirit of childhood is
always the same.
CHARLES E. TRACEWELL.