The Columbia evening Missourian., 1922-08-14

tcA FeCcHH1 COHdhCfcu " INC ht'o'f'
Monthly. The contest uds open TO sfI
dents in all colleges and universities
the United States Miss Saper's PoeH
has also attracted great deal Of Gtter
Gon. She icon first prize in the Gdnrnl
Phi Psi poetry contest conducted her
last Binter.
Reprinted BY permission Of the put
fishers, the Atlantic Monthly Pubiishin
Co.
The Aapper leans her chin on her in
terlocked hands. blinks soulfully at
crack in the fartbest wall. and sighs witt
a Pickford wistfulness: MY ideal? Oh
someone awfully good looking, with nic'
hands and hair; someone sweet. who al
ways seems to understand, if you know
just what mean. Don't YOU just adore
Wally Reid? Well, there you have it,.
The unmarried woman-old maids have
passed on, along with hoop skirts and hall
the marriage senice-ihe unmarried WON
an snaps her glasses briskly back on thei'
chain, adjusts her smart cuffs. and states
clearly: MY ideal is someone with
ability and with intelligence enough TO
understand that am not only his wife,
but his partner" while the ireacherous
womansoul Of her whispers. Someone
nice and big and smoky. who'll shake me
when ] scold about ashes on the rug.
The wife prinks out the hair ribbon
Of Nate, the eldest. pushes back lock Of
her own rather strasgly hair. and walls
rcsignedly. ~0h. just anybody who'll re-
member that | still have birthdays and
hat housekeeping isn't the easiest job in
the world and the children are half his
and he might help me a little bit in rais-
ing them!7
This is the story Of the heroine You
nay meet every day and her ideal.
Her name was May, but in her life
there had been more Of March. rather
coIorless March. bridging the gap between
the harshness Of winter and the soft
promise Of spring-a promise that some
how had never merged into fulfillmeni.
But there was always about her existence
an arrested expectancy, 4 quality Of wait
ing for belated apple blossoms and ten
dril-slirring winds. May Greer was not
the type just born TO be an old maid;
even in her later years there was dream
mess in her eyes suggestive more Of moon
light picnics than of yarn or embroidery
hoops. As young girl in her native
city's next-to-the-upper circles, some
twenty-five years ago, she had been as
fun-loying as the conscience Of the times
allowed. The daily paper very often
mentioned her name among those charm
ing young ladies who attended the de-
hghiful party given last night. But there
had been no vibrancy Of romance in her
life, no glorious memory to tuck away in
the soft lavender Of regret and recall in
grayer moments. Except for one, which
had been the merest hutter of a love
breeze TO quicken her heart.
She had come one night from a high
school reception with Jim Darnham, the
gangling boy who lived next door, She
was II then. tall and slender as a young
ash tree. There was something about
the ash gold shine of her hair, thought
Jim Darnham, that-well, there was
something. There was even a quirk
playing around her lips which made him
wonder, rather breaihlessly, what it
might be like to
They sat in Mays swing a long time
after coming home, swinging aimlessly
back and forth, strumming tunes on the
wood with thoughtless fingers. laughing
sometimes rather uncertainty. They were
so young, those two, their youth as poig-
nantly sweet as violets or your FIRST diplo-
ma or little girl saying her prayers. The
sadness of sweetness. Sometimes their
hands touched quite casually, and once,
even, Jim, daringly for him, took to play.
ing with hers, spreading the fingers apart
or placing them against his, as is the way
of youth.
such small hand" he said. why,
say, mine could make three Of yours.
| bet you couldn't keep this ring on your
biggest finger"
Gould, too" from May, rather glow
ing'y. 1T isn't any smaller than any 9TH
er girls. Why, see! 1t does stay on
So ihere!"
Silence for a while, fragrant as deep
woods odors. Then Jim. the bashful one.
Jim, who called new girl acquaintance
Ma am and forgot to retrieve their
handkerchiefs. accidentally dropped -
Jim fought for a voice that would not
tremble. and mur,bled:
why, say, you know I'm going away
tomorrow? Didn't get chance to speak
Of ii before Just heard it myself yes
terday."
why, yes" said May, who didn't know.
Il think maybe heard mamma say
We'll, be away from here tomorrow
hurriedly. Can't even wait to graduate
Uncle needs me in the plant right away
and it's too good chance to miss for
piece Of paper tied with blue ribbon
How nice said May. There was an
edge Of fiatness in her voice. You'll like
it lots, guess"
Guess so. I'll hate going away from
here. though. Why-uh-say. May
An uneasy shufling of the feet. prickli-
ness at the back of the neck. -Say.
May. we've had-uh-had nice time some
times. Uh-wish maybe you could-well
1t came so hard. There was that quirk
about her mouth he wanted to-And