Evening star., 1921-06-19

autumn, the gentlemen and iadies Vi
that body. Mr.. Overton OF the DAMN
Was there, his hair was Ehlte now
his manner utterly calm Mrs. VIII
liam B. Snow, a well-preserved elder
" lady. with views regarding proper
reading for the young. sat oeslde
young Mr.. David MacLouden' whose
financial gift reached always toward
funds for the new building. MISS
wombast. librarian for thirty years.
being i'll at this time. her place at
the secretary's desk was occupied oS
her assistant, Miss Henrietta Brown
MIR. Elberforce Jenkins presided. a
tall. quiet man of perhaps forty-nVe
who had inherited considerable wealth
and made a great deal more-a man
of dignity and standing. a widower'
and a hacker of the Chicago opera.
Mr.. Jenkins disposed of the busi-
ness Of the meeting. and the members
of the board set out for their various
homes.
Left alone. Miss Brown deftly It'd
led up the desk. then moved ABOUT
with quick. birdlike steps. replacing
books and switching off the lights.
During her residence in Sunbury she
had come to be accepted as usefui
on committees. but no one ever sa"
her at dance or walking with a
man. She might have been under
or over thirty. but must have looked
an old maid at twenty. She never
talked-never exhibited emotion.
She tripped briskly along Simpson
street to the rented house that she
married sister. Mrs George c. Bat
tie. younger than Miss Brown. faded
and tired from the demands of three
young children and unendins house.
work.
Mrs. Battle sat darning stockings.
crying vigorously.
whats the matter with them?"
asked Miss Brown.
~ y
TIER sister sighed. George always
IL says that if l don't let them cry
it out. we'll never have any dis
cipline here. What are you going
to do?"
"Going out to the study
"I wish you'd stay and talk to me-
Maybe you think it doesn't get on
my nerves too-with George staying
in town evenings. and all the wor-
ries. What do you do out there.
anyway-all alone. sometimes It
seems as if We don't know you at all"
You know l can't work in here"
But if it's work. why don't we
see results from it once in a while:
And what kind OF work needs talk
ing machine playing fox-trots? Have
you supposed. all these years. we
couldn't hear it-and wonder a little?
Seems to me that you're
You'd better go to bed. Mary" said
Miss Brown quietly. The music helps
me with my work. And she went out
through the kitchen into the back
yard.
Miss Brown had made over the
small garage at the rear into simple
den. with desk and chair. bookcases.
an old-fashioned round stove. closet
and an inexpensive rug that was tack
ed to the floor.
she bolted the door behind her.
switched on the drop-light. A soft |
radiance shone on the desk. with its
neat piles of papers and reference
books. She moved about, drawing
down the window shades. and put a
little coal on the fire. She sank into
the desk chair. drew toward her one |
Of the piles of papers and fingered it.
But her eyes lifted to the cheap |
talking machine that stood on small
strayed to the door-she seemed to
be listening. a flush crept high on her
thin cheeks. The nervous eyes burn
ed with an inner fire. She spread out
a few papers. looked intently at them
then she replaced them on the pile |
and pushed that back in it's place.
Then she disappeared behind the
screen in the corner. Five minutes
later she stepped out. attired in !
bIoomers. her feet bare. And now it
was evident that this little woman
had the divine gift Of grace.
She moved slowly. rather laZily. ]
about the rug. fiexing her muscles
drawing her thin arms sinuously up i
over her head and lowering them.
rising on tiptoe and swinging first |
smooth. wide arc. She stood. next. |
with feet a little apart. lifted her
arms and bent very slowly backward
until her hands touched the floor. then
ran lightly on hands and feet in
circle as wide as the rug. !
Next Miss Brown turned hand |
spring. as neatly and lightly as the |
most expert acrobat; then another:
of note paper on the rug. stood on
1t. and threw backward somersault. |
alighting squarsly on tine paper. She
dance steps of an intricate pattern and
rhythm.
She now started the talking ma
chine playing TchaikOwsky's "Marche |
The steps were in a sense her own
a composite of bits she had seen done, |
and steps remembered from childhood.
There were occasional crudenesses in !
the transitions from step to step and |
posture to posture. but her quick in
telligence and amazingly alert activ-
ity covered these. actually converted |
them into character and color AS /
her breath came more quickly and her !
bright cheeks and sparkling eyes told |
Of the happiness she found in this |
perfect physical freedom. her thin |
face took on a degree of elfin beauty |
80. She danced Strauss waltz. then |
one of the fox-trots her sister had
complained of-a grotesque. made up
OF bounding jerky steps and light
ming spins and pirouettes.
+ \ + +
THEN for a time, wrapped in an
e = old robe. Miss Brown sat moodily |
before the stove. Even her sister had !
forgotten how prettily she had danced |
as q little girl. but poverty had come. |
and work. The sensitiveness Of thin. !
shy child had hardened into a for
bidding self-consciousness. She could |
never become reconciled to that wild !
strain in her breast. It was bitterly |
real Live with it she must. At times |
1t terrified her. |
OF recent years she had taken to
arranging afternoons of and slipping |
into Chicago to see dancing. She slip /
ped furtively into vaudeville houses. |
Some days, he ,ehosted, as she stared
Erimiy at the redly glowing squares |
OF mica in the stove door. they would
. hnd her out.
During this autumn the Battles fell |
on troubled ways. George c.. caught
, in the general financial confusion
that followed the war, gave out. FL |
/. nally they carried him to a. cot in
the public ward of the Sunbury Hos |
ifa1 10 mi MS la1