Evening star., 1921-11-13
WHEN Man and Woman Are
" United by Lie, Cam Anything
EHace the Memory Of It? A New
Treatment of the Problem by One of
America Leading Authors.

~ NE thing the gods will never
forget in their careless min
istry over the lives Of mice
and men. Hunger is the su-
premest passion. and as such II mas
caused more bloodsned than either
love or hate. Some there are wHo VIII
group love and hate together as
spiritual manifestations of hunger.
But it is a Grass physical yearnlng
after more bread and more cheese
that sets bright-clad field marshais
astride their white horSes and turns
national boundaries into vast grave
yards, a million crosses, row on row.
Let us begin, then, with a very
minor character in our drama-a
mouse.
In the lowering dusk of early Feo-
ruary a mouse peered round a square
tin box, fictiously labeled Cake, In
the kitchen of uare-shoulaereo
house wherein Turnbulls had hour-
ished and decayed. Like the churcn
mouse of tradition he was thin ana
scrawny, aad the tiny jet Deaos
through which he surveyed MS mar
row world We're bright with FAMINE
he CfOucntu anu "ditCu Aoi Wv -
perior being whom he hated ana upon
whom he depended for his crumbs.
Down the creaking stairs she came
at last the withered old woman. Inc
mouse knew her step, and he markeoo u
her progress through the gaunt iaoeo
hall toward the kitchen table WheIe-
on she had set a thick blue plate pc
side an almost empty bottle ana a
nicked glass. She was late TONI
the mouse knew that by the ih'elii. .
sence that dwelt in his stomach. put
it was not until she had groped heI +
way across the kltcheh anu +hat me
shakily to turn up the gas that the
change in her appearance was visible,
even to the mouse'S limited powers Oh
observation. ror
She was dressed, tremendously, ior
an appearance in the great wofiu; Not
since the funeral of her sister,
line, nearly year before nau sa. a.
decked herself SO punctillousiy III hIl
lutte black bonnet and the cloak
which had been dyed and stlll snoWeo
an undertone Of brown. MISS octa y "a
Turnbull was quite evidently soin1s
somewhere, and the shabby traVei-
ine-bag which she set beside the OIL
clothed table indicated that her Jour-
ney might be far.
y x + x
THE mouse lay in wait. FAMINE
L gnawed his little vitals ana
steeled his heart to a sort OF colo
ferocity as he lurked in shadows. an
ticipating her next move. She rolleo
her black gloves into neat ball ana
laid them on the oilcloth before, with
the irritating deliberateness OF old
age, she opened the cake box ana
brought out the sum and substance
of her evening meal. A box OF crack
.sr-t ynI ~
The mouse glided forth quarter OF
an inch, sinking like the beast OF
prey that he might easily have been.
Had he been larger animal
lion, perhaps, or leopard-Wlth Wnat
a triumphant growl might he have
thrown himself upon the crone who
nibbled crumbs between her withered
jaws! For the old woman and the
mouse hated one another with all the
hatred Of those who compete Tor
. fghting for. Crumbs. Within the
memory of mice there had scarcely
been sufficient food in that echoing
house to support one family of long
tailed robbers. The food supply had
dwindled again as the months wore
into winter, and now something
meanly dramatic had come into the
old woman's ebbing life.
Out of the long-necked bottle with
the label ''Currant Wine" written in
d y
clasped it, Miss Octavia poured thin,
pinkish trickle into her nicked glass:
she drained the bottle, but the liquid
fell short of the brim by full half
inch. Gingerly, then, she slipped the
sour comfort between nibbles OF
crackers and cheese. In appearance
she was not unlike her enemy. the
mouse. Her ears were round. her face
thin and pointed; her eyes were like
shoe buttons that had been endowed
nrt of G. n
And as she ate she scattered crumbs.
Crumbs! The mouse hitched forward
another length. An inviting silence
had fallen over the musty kitchen. So
matte wheeze of the crooked gas Jet
sounded. by contrast, like Niagara's
roar. He tensed his muscles for a
final leap. then stopped. Her eyes
were upon him. How could he know
that their filmy stare was fixed in
the vacancy of her ancient dream?
Mercy me"' she was thinking. Tho
train leaves at Sat. Or is 1t 6:49? I
do believe I've lost my timetable.
Oughtn't I to stay and see that those
people get into the house? She seemed
a real lady-but they're Australians.
Tut-tut, She had lovely face. She
looked a little like the Crocketts of
Charlottesville-only she paid her
hope she didn't think l was over
charging them.
She says her husbands an invalid.
Lawsy me! Thank goodness, those
nervous diseases aren't catching. I
must see Judge Mallok about that. 1
do hope he won't forget to collect the
rents on the first of the month. Aus
tralia! What a place to come from!
La l haven't done thing about my
currant wine. But I'm sure she's a
lady and can be trusted. although
don't know any Leff1eys who are any
body in the SOUTH
AT that instant the train of her
thought was interrupted by move
nlent under her. eyes. A mouse.
H''Scat, you little pest"
Her voice came sharp, like the
cackle of a startled hen, and her
eyes snapped venomously as she laid
hold of the bottle and brought it
down clublike on the space where
The bottle cracked itself against
After that she set herself busily
to brushing away crumbs. Fussily.
infinitely she gathered the precious
sakes into her thick blue dish, car
them ruthlessly into the burning
mouth of Moloch. A sizable nugget
of golden cheese and depleted pack
age of crackers she put away in the
cakebox and fastened the lid against
depredations of robber mice.
From hole above the wainscoting
two little evil eyes peeked out.
X X
NOW Miss Octavia Turnbull, after
AN having the day before exacted a
three-month lease. at $50 a month,
from the lovely Australian lady with
the sad brown eyes, had planned to
treat herself to visit upon her dis
tant and elderly cousin, Mrs. Darius
Penuybank of Middleboro There
ha1. haa all a.d,affar