The herald. [volume] (New Orleans, La.) 1905-1953, 1922-08-10

ished l couldn't even think. And when
you can't think you Certainly can't
talk.
Nonsense. Mary" scowled Father.
"Of course you know what you want
to do. What are you in the habit Of
doing with your young friends-your
carries and Charles, and all the
restT
| guess Just stood and stared and
didn't say anything; for after a min
ute he cried: "Well-well-weli! I'm
waiting"
why, we've walk-and falkland
play games" I began; but right away
he interrupted.
Good! Very well. then, Wen walk.
I'm not Carrie or Charlie. but I be-
lieve / can walk and talk-perhaps
even play games. Who knows? Come,
| get your hat"
And i got my hat, and we went.
But what funny. funny walk that
was! He meant to make II good
/ one, | know he did. And he tried.
He tried real hard. But he walked
so fast / couldn't half keep up with
him; then, when he saw how | was
hurrying, he'd slow down. way down.
and look so wOrried-till he'd forget
and go Striding off again, way ahead
| of me.
We went up on the hill through the
! Benton woods, and II was perfectly
lovely up there. He didn't say much
ut first. Then, all of sudden. he be-
gan to talk. about anything and every
thing. And l knew. by the way he
did 1t. that he'd Just happened to
think he'd got to talk.
And how he talked. He asked me
was l warmly clad (and here II is
August y, and did have good break
fast, and how old was /. and did I en-
JOY my studies-whiCh shows how lit
tie he was really thinking what he was
saying. He knows school closed ages
ago. Wasn't he teaching me himself
the last of it. too? All around us were
Howers and birds. and oh, so many,
many lovely things. But he never said
a word'ahOut them. He just talked
because he'd got to talk. knew IL,
and ii made me laugh inside, though
all the while II maze me sort Of want
TO cry, too. Funny. wasn't II?
After time lie didn't talk any more.
but just walked on and on; and by and
by We came home
OF course, it wasn't awfully jolly
that walk wasn't; and / guess Father
didn't think it was either Anyhow,
he hasn't asked me TO go again this
week, and he looked tired and worried
and sort of discouraged when he got
back from that one.
The next evening he took me out to
the observatory to see the stars. That
was lovely. Honestly had a perfect
ly beautiful time, and / think Father
did, too. He wasn't stiff and polite
one bit. Oh, l don't mean that he was
impolite or rude. It's Just that he
wasn't stiff as if l was company. And
he was so happy with his stars and
his telescope, and so glad to show
them to me-Oh, l had a beautiful
time, and told him 50; and he looked
real pleased. But Aunt Jane came for
me before I'd had half enough, and 1
had TO 60 to bed.
The next morning thought he'd be |
different, somehow, because we'd had |
such a lovely time together the night |
before. But he wasn't. He just said, |
Good morning, MGry," and began to |
read his paper. And he read his pa
per all through breakfast without say |
Ing another word to me. Then he got |
up and went into the library, and I |
never saw him again all day except |
at dinner-time and supper-time, and |
then he didn't talk to me.
But after supper he took me out |
again TO see the stars, and he was
just as nice and friendly as could be.
Not a bit like a man that's only a
father by order of the court. But the |
next day
Well-and that's the way it's been
all the week. And that's why l say |
he's been so queer. One minute he'll |
be just as nice and fOlksy as you
could ask anybody to be, and the very
next he's looking right through you
as if he didn't see you at ALL and you
and wonder what's the mat
ter, and if you've done anything to
displeaSe him.
Sometimes he seems almost glad and
happy, and then he'll look so sorry
and sad!
l just can't understand my father
az ALL