Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1921-01-16

IT WO men were considering the
business outlook. One was
i seated at the open door of a
building that showed a recep-
ton room with stin chairs, a
rug and a desk, all of somber brown
to match the walls and set lust so"
with the precision that belongs to an
institution. 1t was a room where
customers come in black, to step si-
lentIy and speak in hushed voices. as
if some one were asleep or dead
except for the desk, of course. which
showed that business was very much
alive.
If street glimpse could haxe x
rayed the back yard. the man who
had paused to exchange neighbor-
ly word with the man at the door
made of fresh pine. just emptied
from truck and, maybe, black
enameled car with glass sides and
carved plumes on the woodwork, that
had come to the alley gate to-but
it isn't polite to peek into private
affairs.
The passing man being of the I'M
eventful placidity that comes of a
steady job with the union back OF
| him, opined that the world was COM
! ing around all right-unless the rails
| ing of the wage scale was delayed
| but the other man, who was one OF
| the firm that carried on the business
| inside, rubbed his hand with a grave
! satisfaction, as he predicted an inn
| mediate future of good luck:
January is one of our best months
pneumonia!
| That's all. but goodness knows IT
| was enough. Pneumonia! You know
; what dear Riley had to say about
COLLINS? Well, as there isn't one OF
you that can be spared, ne1ghbors
| monia this month, because, there's
| worse than COLLINS waiting to catch
you if YOU don't look out!
IT is admitted that creeds have their
bigots-which makes it entirely
proper to mention that for one time.
anyhow. the fine movement we call
Americanization wore cap and bells.
She was a delicate featured gentle
woman who seemed to have grown old
like a flower withers on a stalk. And
as she chatted with another woman
side seats on cross section car-the
soft drawl of voice marked her as
Virgnian whose accent went back to.
say, the settlement of jamestown. Both
women were inexpensive looking widows
and each carried one of those yellow
paper bags with a picture dobbed on
the front.
1t was the Virginia woman's bag that
called for the criticism of a passenger
opposite: woman whose tempera-
mental shoulder chip was as obvious as
her double-decked chin. She had in
tow one of those spritless sort of men
preposterously addicted to going with
such women, perhaps for the same rea-
Is Gx,1,
| under the gullet of a shark-and. being
spiritless. he obeyed submissively when
she commanded, with gong-like en-
phasis:
Look at the picture on that womans
bag, Wilmer
What Wilmer and everybody around
saw in the way of art was tiny dog
with a red white and blue necktie that
might be twisted into a flag. allowing
for an embarrassed imagination.
THAT woman ought to be reported
for desecrating the flag-the flag of our
Union-the flag our boys died for in
France. AS 1 said to Mrs. Blank when
she put me on the Americanization COM
| mittee, Mrs Blank. I said. I shall make
every foreigner 1 come across learn to
love and honor the flag
In fulfillment of this vow, she
leaned across and interrupted the Vir-
ginia woman. who was deeply inter-
ested in whatever it was she and her
companion were talking about:
I'D thank YOU, Nam, to let me
have that picture on your bag"
The pleasant little rill of southern
accent was diverted into the new
channel. and though she looked a bit
surprised. the Virginian peeled off the
over:
you are very welcome. and I am
sure my friend will give you hers"
The friends picture was snow scene
with a boy on a sled.
The woman ignored the friend, but
held up the tiny dog as if it were
exhibit A.
This dog has a flag around its
neck. Do you know what the flag
of this country stands for?'
The little flush Of graciousness So
bered into amazed and indignant
realiZation-a realization brought to
head by one mans grunt of con-
tempt and another mans chuckle. both
at the poety lady's expense.
Il ought to know what the flag
cestors fought for 1t throughout the
revolution. NY son died for it in
Cuba and my three grandsons were
in France. One Of them is buried
there; Is there anything else you
would like to ask"
But the other woman seemed to
have lost interest in the matter. She
bumped herself around and stared out
OF the window. The Spiritless Will
mer gazed at his shoes as if it were
frequent occupation. and the Vir-
GINA gentlewoman. excitedly and with
a new tremulousness in her voice. tried
to resume her chat with her friend az if
nothing had happened. But the man
who had grunted said to the man who
Il bet she could have told that her
father fought with Lee"
And that about ended that.
* X X
A WALK from 7th street to Capitol
Hill isn't what you could con-
scienciously call thrilling. still:
1t isn't all shop windows and ho,el
entrances banked up with tourists. you
know. For one thing. there are the
flambouyant gypsies to keep you busy
a whole square trying to figure out
how they manage to blend SO many
gone-mad colors into such an artistic
whole; and foreign kiddies with hair
that varies geographically, from red
curls to lacquer-shine straightness-and
with no telling what futures fermenting
bencath-and the boy on the curb.
sticking pins in a paper wheel that is
"goin' roun' an roun' an never stop:
a somber human crumb who. maybe
Just maybe-is shouldering his way to