Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1922-01-08

Uncle Nels had discovered and told
me the story about You know. He'd
married the girl Uncle Nels had been
sweet on and played it low-down on
him in other ways. And they'd sat
and glared at each other by the hour
down there in the subbasement. OF
course. the girl had died years ago.
But hadn't Uncle Nels said something
about going back to that little Swed-
ish fishing village?
***
! Just on chance, I called up the
) steamship Office on the phone. Not
that I was simple enough to ask them
II Uncle Nels had booked a passage
with them, for I knew they wouldn't
tell me that. My line was that was
sending a steamer basket to him and
wanted to know when 1t should reach
! the pier. The clerk at the other end
of the wire chuckled.
Better send it parcel post to Stock
| holm" says he. Your party sailed
day before yesterday on the Ingen-
haveh.'
"Oh. did he?" says I.
| And as usual Inez don't seem to get
!
when it's sprung on her.
by Sweden" says she. How fool
ish! In winter time. too. He don't
come back for long time. eh?"
! "If at ALL" says I.
Huh" says Inez. Nov. who goes
to the movies with me nights?'
! Listen. Inez." says /. firm but pa
tent, try to get it through your
head what's happened. This trick
uncle of yours has left you fiat. He
has gone away. probably for good. and
I, what's more important. he's taken his
| check book with him. II you want
to know the worst, you're stranded"
Inez stares at me placid for a while
yanking her gum with a smooth, easy
jaw stroke. Then she remarks: You,
too Trilby May. He leaves you Just the
same as one. Eh?"
II don't see it," says I. at wasn't
me that strapped with him over cro-
! quet. didn't call him a cheat. And
I'm far from stranded. Thank good
ness. I've got my job"
well, that's all right, then says
Inez.
There are times when that cal,nness
of hers is almost maddening. But it's
no use talking rough to her.
"Sure. Inez," says I, Everything is
! perfectly lovely. Only here We are,
with French maid and one of the
most expensive apartments in New
York. and nothing but my salary to
feed to the bill collectors. AS mat
ter of fact, 1t can't be DONE"
| 70 In
bit She just smiles and wags her
head. II get a job. too" says she.
| YES" says I. "At twenty or TWEEN
ty-fve a week. II you're lucky. But
where would that get us? Say.
haven't you ever figured up how much
a month this big apartment was cost
| ing Uncle Nels?"
| Inez mods. ''Once I did" says she.
II forget now. Lolita money. Too
much. We can move, can't We? Lit
tie place. Let's go hunt one up, eh?"
! And here I'd been planning to break
1t to her gentle. You'd most think,
| too, that q sudden change like this
would be some jar to her. Why, for
nearly a year she'd been living as
expensive as a bootlegger's bride:
\
a taxi account ad lib, buying any kind
Of clothes she took a fancy to. and
simply having the bills sent to Uncle
Nels who had settled without a
whimper. It had been months since
she had even done up her own hair.
Now she sees all that fade out with
not even a shoulder shrug.
X
"TNEZ," says I, you're either lot
simpler in the head than I mis-
trusted or else you're better sport
! we'll go look up a two-room and bath
joint"
1--WE could go back to boarding
house on 57th street." she suggested.
"The prunery?" says I. "Where we
used to be so happy and so poor? No,
not that. I've eaten all the meals I
care to in that basement dining room
besides, want my own bathtub, and
IL we can afford it I'd like to spIurge
on a kitchenette. You're not such a
lpoor cook, you know, and it's just pcs
sible you'll not land job right away"
i So I paid off Annette, notified the
agent that We were not renewing the
lease. and we began to look for new
quarters. Maybe you know what that
means in New York, especially in mid
winter. It's no cinch.. At the end Of
!, the third days hunt I was almost
willing to give up and take any old
thing that was offered, even to an in
side nat over a garage. And then the
faithful Barry Plat came to the
rescue.
"Why don't you take Dicky Whites
studio?" he asked. Hes quitting art
and going back to Utica as shipping
clerk in his uncle's factory, and he has
q six months lease on this renovated
Iloft down in the East Twenties some
where. It's in rather messy neigh
borhood, four flights up. with no ele-
vator, but there's . whaling big room,
plenty Of light. q bath In one alcove
and q gas >stove in another. All for
seventy-dve q month, too"
Lead me to it. Barry" says ]. "and
liz it's all you say. I-Tll-well. may
surprise you" ..e
True, Barry had omitted to mention
how near the Sd avenue -'L" this
so-called studio was, or that there
was an Armenian cafe on the ground
| floor, an artificial flower factory on
| the second and a varied assortment
OF weird enterprises in the adjoining
lofts from a wig maker to q rug
| renoyator. But when we found how
ecoxy DicIY White had made his sec