Evening star., 1922-12-17

emotion over the moon swinging out
from behind a swirl of silver clouds.
nor messy scraps Of thrills because
thrush was singing in rain-drench-
ed lilac bush at twilight. Mothers
was the soul of 4 poet: Mrs. Thomp-
sons the soul OF polyp.
She was one of the few people who
riled mother through and through.
She would say, II won't quarrel with
any of my neighbors." as though the
Others ran around seeking trouble.
Oh, i've always said honesty was the
best policy" as though she had in
vented honesty.
The Masons. among themselves.
always spoke of the elder Thompson
daughter as "Blonche." in imitation
of the board and stilted spronuncia-
ton her mother used. -
As a consequence of their mothers
narrow attitude. the two Thompson
girls were self-consciously engrossed
in their own attainments. Their
mother believed that her daughters
like the king. could do no wrong-a
view that was thoroughly shared by
the girls themselves. They'were per-
feet in their manners. immaculate as
to their persons, flawless in their
conduct But. lacking a sense of hu-
NOR which would otherwise have
been their redeeming quality. they
were excellent specimens of that
despicable creature-a p-ig. The
fun lowing Mason girls spoke always
of "Blonche" as "the perfect one
Boys of Juniors age live on the
border between childhood and adoles-
cence. They are such Il queer mix
ture of youth and childhood that one
hour, with developing mind. they
seem to be reaching out into the
future 90 wrestle with man-sized
problems, while the next hour. with
no conscious understanding of the
change, they abandon that mood to
drop back into the trifing plays of
babyhood.
This was an hour. this particular
warm summer evening. when Junior
had slipped back into babyhood. He
had pried off a loose slat in the
trelliswork under the back porch and
with much grunting and wiggling,
had managed to crawl through.
Scrouging under the porch, he look
ed around III the semi darkness. His
eve lighted on an old, battered. rusted
tin street car. relic of younger days.
He succeeded in pulling off one of the
tin wheels. There was a hole in the
center of the wheel left by the with
drawing of the hub. He held it to
his mouth and blew. 1t gave forth
weird. plaintive sound like the new
ing of cat. Immediately Junior felt
himself taking on the characteristics
of a cat. Fur seemed, in some mi
raculous way. to spring out on his
body. With the erstwhile street-car
wheel between his teeth and emit
ting continuous purring sounds he
pad padded out from under the porch.
With that capacity for sinking HIM
self in an imaginary character, he
felt in his heart all the SLY, treach-
erous attributes of a cat. Nay. more.
he was. cat.
Out on the lawn, ne crawled
through the grass of the side yard
to the hedge. stopped to rub a pair
of invisible whiskers against a weed,
nibbled daintily at a stalk of catnip,
and, settling back on his launches.
laid the street-car wheel aside to lap
a presumably clean tongue oyer
slightly soiled paw. Then. with half
human, half-feline promptings. he
cogitated plans for the rest of the
evening.
X x X X
A CROSS the hedge at the Thomp-
I \ son home some one was sitting
in the hammock behind the vine
covered latticework of the porch.