The Ocala evening star. [volume] (Ocala, Fla.) 1895-1943, 1922-05-19

"weIl, ne-T-hadn't," answered Fa-
Their. in a queer. half-smothered voice
81 suppose. Mary, we were-unlikes,
your mother and I. That's Just what
we were; though I never thought Of II
before, in Just that way"
He waited. then went on, still half
TO himself. his eyes on the dancers:
"She loved things like this-music,
laughter, gayety. I abhorred them.
remember how bored I was that night
here-till saw her"
"And did you fall in love with her
right away?" I just couldn't help ask.
ing that question. Oh. do so adore
love storiesi
A queer little smile came to Father.
lips.
well, yes. I think I did, Mary.
Just looked at her once-and then kept
on looking till 1t seemed as IL just
couldn't take my eyes off her. And
after a little her glance met mine
and the whole throng melted away.
and there wasn't another soul in the
room but Just us two. Then she
looked away, and the throng came
back Bnt still looked at her"
"Was she so awful1y pretty, Fa.
ther?' I could feel the little thrill:
tingling all over me. Now I was get
ting love story!
"She was, my dear. She was very
lovely. But 1t wasn't just that-it was
a joyous something that I could not
describe. It was as II she were o
bird. poised for flight I know it now
for what it was-the very incarnation
Of the spirit of youth. And she wa,
young. Why, Mary, she was not sc
many years older than you yourself
now. You aren't sixteen yet. And
young. IF she hadn't been quite SO
young"
He stopped, and stared agar
straight ahead at the dancers-with
out seeing one of them, knew. Ther
he drew a great deep sigh that seemed
to come from the very bottom of his
boots.
But it was my fault. my fault
every bit of it, he muttered. still star.
ing straight ahead. IF l hadn't beer
so thoughtless- AS if I could i'm
prison that bright spirit of youth In 9
great dull cage of conventionality ant
not expect it to bruise its wings By
6uttering against the barsl"
And right there and then it came to
me that Mother said it was her fault,
too; and that If only she could live 1t
over again, she'd do differently. And
here was Father saying the same thing.
And all Of a sudden l thought, well,
why can't they try 1t over again, II
they both want to, and If each says
1t was their-no, his, no, hers-well,
his and her fault. (How does the
thing go? I hate grammarD But
mean, If she says it's her fault, and he
says it's his. That's what I thought,
anyway. And 1 determined right then
and there to give them the chance to
try again, If speaking would do it.
looked up at Father. He was still
talking half under his breath, his eyes
looking straight ahead He had for
gotten all about me. That was plain
without any coffee in it, he'd have
been stirring me. l know he would.
He was like that
Father, Father" l had TO speak
twice, before he heard me. DO you
really mean that you would like to try
againf" I asked.
"Eh? What?" And just the way he
oh
many miles he'd been away from me.
"Try 1t again, you know-what you
said" I reminded him.
ooh, that! !" Such funny look came
to his face, half ashamed, half vexed.
I'm afraid I have been-talking, my
dear"
Yes, but would your" persisted.
He shook his head; then, with such
an oh-that-it-could-b smile, he said 4:
"Of course-we all wish that we
could go back and do it over again
differently. But we never can"
YES, but, Father, you can go back,
in this case, and so can Mother, cause
you both want to-" hurried on, al
most choking In my anxiety to get 1t
all out quickly. "And Mother said II
was her fault. I heard her"
"Her fault |" I could see that Fa-
Their did not quite understand, even
yet.
Eyes, yes, just as you said it was
yours-about all those things at the
first, you know, when-when she was
a spirit of youth beating against the
bars"
Father turned square around and
faced me.
MARY, what are you talking about|
he asked then. And I'd have beer
scared Of his voice If 1t hadn't heer
for the great light that was shining
in his eyes.
But I looked into his eyes. anC
wasn't scared; and / told him every
thing. every single thing-all abou
how Mother had cried over the little
blue dress that day In the trunk-room
and how she had shown the furnished
lace and said that she had furnished
| the happiness of him and Of hersel
and Of me; and that 1t was all hel
| fault; that she was thoughtless ant
willful and exacting and a spoiled
| child; and oh. If she could only try l
over again. how differently she woulC
| do! And there was a lot more.
told notwithstanding l coul'
| remember. Some way, l didn't be
lieve that Mother would mind now