The Bamberg herald. [volume] (Bamberg, S.C.) 1891-1972, 1922-04-27

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as they used to do in Boston. But OF
course it can't be for the same reason
here, for they've known all along
about the divorce and haven't minded
it at all.
1 heard this morning that Stella
Mayhem had a party last night. But
didn't get invited. OF course, you
can't always ask everybody to your
parties, but this was real big party,
and I haven't found a girl in school,
yet, that wasn't invited-but me. But
I guess it wasn't anything, after all.
Stella is a new girl that has come
here to live since I went away. Her
folks are rich, and she's very popular,
and Of course she has loads of friends
she had to invite; and she doesn't
know me very we'll. Probably that was
it. And maybe just imagine it about
the other girls, too. Perhaps it's the
brown serge dress. Still, it can't be
that, for this is the first day I've worn
it. But, as I said, I feel Maryish al
ready.
I haven't dared to touch the piano
since that night week ago, only once
when Aunt Jane was at missionary
meeting, and knew Father was over
to the college. But didn't I have
good time then? I just guess did!
Aunt Jane doesn't care for music.
Besides, it's noisy, she says, and would
be likely to disturb Father. SO I'm not
to keep on with my music lessons here.
She's going to teach me to sew in
stead. She says sewing is much more
sensible and useful.
Sensible and useful! 1 wonder how
many times I've heard those words
since I've been here. And durable,
too. And nour1shing. That's another
word. Honestly, Marie is getting aw-
fully tired Of Mary's sensible sewing
and busting, and her durable clumpy
shoes and stufy dresses, and her nour-
ishing oatmeal and whole-wheat
bread. But there, what can you do?
I'm trying to remember that it's differ
ent, anyway, and that said I liked
something different. i
I don't see much of Father. Still,
there's something kind Of queer about
it, after all. He only speaks to me
about twice a day-just "Good-morn-
ing, Mary" and "Good-night." And
10 far as most Of his actions are con-
cerned you wouldn't think by them
that he knew was In the house. Yet,
over and over again at the table, and
at times when I didn't even know he
was round, I've found him watching
me, and with such queer, funny look
In his eyes. Then, very quickly al
ways, he looks right away.
But last night he didn't. And that's
especially what I wanted to write
about today. And this is the way it
happened:
1t was after supper, and had gone
into the library. Father had gone out
to the observatory as usual, and Aunt
Jane had gone upstairs to her room as
usual, and as usual I was wandering
round looking for something to DO. l
wanted to play on the piano, but l
didn't dare to-not with all those
dead-hair and wax-fower' folks in the
parlor watching me, and the chance Of
Fathers coming in as he did before.
was standing in the window star
ing out at nothing-it wasn't quite
dark yet-when again had that queer
feeling that somebody was looking at
me. turned-and there was Father.
He had come in and was sitting in the
big chair by the table. But this time
he didn't look right away as usual and
give me a chance to slip quietly out
of the room, as always had before.
Instead he said:
"What are you doing there, MaryT
"N-nothing!" Father frowned and
hitched in his chair. Father always
bitches In his chair when he's irritat-
ed and nervous. "You can't be doing
nothing. Nobody but a dead man does
nothing and we aren't so sure about
him. What are you doing, Mary?
"Just Hooking out the window
"Come here. I want to talk to you
Eyes, Father"
I went, of course, at once, and sat
down in the chair near him. He
hitched again in his seat.
"Why don't you do something-read,
sew, knit?" he demanded. "Why do
always find you moping around, doing
nothing?"
Just like that he said it; and when
he had just told me
"Why, Father!" cried; and know |
that I showed how surprised was. I
81 thought you just said I couldn't do
nothing-that nobody could!"
"Eh? What! Tut, tut" He seemed
very angry at first; then suddenly ne
looked sharply into my face. Next, II
you'll believe it, he laughed-the
queer little chuckle under his breath
that I've heard him give two or three
times when there was something he
thought was funny. "Humph!' ne