Albuquerque morning journal. [volume] (Albuquerque, N.M.) 1903-1926, 1922-10-10
Our Special Feature Page Of Worth While Stories

l think l was the only one who
might have guessed he was a cred
itor. know the breed. Did he take
any hint? Did he do the gracious
stunt? He did not.
"'You may keep your bong bongs'
he snapped. And you may tell your
mother that If that bill isn't paid
by Saturday we'll put it into the
hands of our lawyers
Fiction would have given this
different twist. 'Rene's fapper
dimples would have won the flinty
heart of the old crank The truth
here is more touching than the
version respectable fiction would at
ford.
Mystery in Sis's Hardness.
In every large family you will find
one son or daughter who lives under
the impression that there is a gold
mine secreted somewhere on the
premises of even a railroad fiat, My
favorite sister is little given this
way. My big sister has no patiencs
with her because she says that tenn
permanent Is kind of laZiness. Well,
as fiction has always made the most
Of suspense, our would-be artist put
us through agony that Madame But
terfy's waiting and watching ap-
preached but never reached.
IF you don't get something to do
to-day" my mother told her as she
started out on daily hunt for
position, a hunt that had for weeks
resulted in coming home with moth
ing to do, but with many details Of
life in Greenwich Village, you will
just have to stay at home and make
yourself useful about the house here
instead of throwing away time and
money" And Sis went gaily of.
Five o'clock came and laborers
crowded home to their happy fire.
sides. The subways gave forth their
hard working men, women and also
children of working paper age, and
/ stood with my nose pressed against
the screen waiting for Sis. Six
o'clock came, but no Sis. Seven
o'clock and all the laborers would
have finished their evening meal and
their loving women folk would be
doing the dishes and their frolicsome
children, like steps of stairs, would
be having a game of ringaleavio on
the sidewalk before being called UP
to bed But no Sis.
Eight o'clock and the tired labor
ers would not go to the movies, but
would call their children up and after
a chapter in the Bible, maybe, would
get them off to bed. Still no Sis.
Nine o'clock and workworn labor
ers would settle around the fireplace,
devoted man and wife, to talk of the
high cost of living and to smoke and
mend respectively. And still no Sis.
Ten o'clock and the laborer and his
family would be sleeping (and what
If snoring?) in home sweet home, and
the careful policeman would be pa
trolling the street to ward off robbers
who might want to steal the stock
ing containing the savings toward a
rainy day. And still no Sis.
r,oo
ing been sent off with the younger
portion of the family. But was
at the parlor window watching.
Where was she? Had she been
lured into some den In Greenwich
Village? Why didn't they tell the
police to search down there for a
bobbed haired Russian boused, over
grown, half baked but jolly favorite
sister of mine? Were they going to
let her go in this calloused man
ner? No, they couldn't. That
wouldn't be fair to the self-sacri-
ficing heroines who go looking for
jobs in misunderstanding OF depart
ment stores so as TO earn enough for
milk for the baby and rent for the
family and shoes for the poor father
who wore his others out begging
bread.
Fiction at this point would have
Sis stay away until the report of
her having married the European
nrinca who was visiting Nauy vori-
in quest of a wife would ease the
feeling of the family
But at 10 minutes past 10 Sis
came home tired. She had lost her
last nickel and had walked from
Fifty-ninth street home.