The Lee County journal. (Leesburg, Ga.) 1904-19??, 1922-12-01
MEMORIES
BY RUBY DOUGLAS

In spite of the fact that Hugh
Wharton was what the boys called q
regular fellow, he had developed an
art In which he had become absorbed
namely, the art Of designing and
executing the most beautiful OF old
fashioned hooked rugs.
An architect by profession, he had
felt creative urge that took him
out Of the practical field of his work
and had led him first into designs of
fantastic cOlors for mural decorations
In some Of the more artistic buildings
which he had designed. Then remem-
bering that art of his grandmother
he had decided to make frame and
a design on canvas and try his luck
with rug.
Il can do 1t evenings when ! am
| too tired to read, fellows" he ex-
planned when the boys with whom he
lived chlded him for his feminine task
Il guess I'll take to tattin'," chaffed
one
"And / to knittin'," added another.
But Hugh was not to be put from his
| purpose. He soon had the big frame
constructed and had rolled the can
vas at the end and drawa the design
thereon.
Don't forget the forget-me-nots,"
sang out the boys as they watched
him hook in and out of the pattern.
you'll be Jolly glad to have it in
the room when it is DONE" he said,
good-naturedly.
"Where do you get all the ragsf"
asked Bob Taylor.
ooh, here and there-from the
girls" admitted Hugh.
Whose red sport coat Is that In
the center rose" asked Tom.
Remember Helen MooreP
The three men recalled at once the
gay red golf coat of the girl who had
married one of their friends and gone
away.
"When you are old and cranky and
sit in reverie with your pipe, you
can think of all the girls who CON
tributed bit of their finery to your
rug, eh, Hugh?
Hugh nodded. He was hooking bits
Of soft blue woolly material into the
design of a cluster of cornflowers.
His face had taken on a reminiscent
expression.
II wouldn't cry over it, Hugh, old
boy" began Bob.
Hugh forced smile.
whats the idea? Whose soft blue
is that you are mOping over?"
The artist did not speak for a mo-
ment.
Florence Millions mother gave me
this material. 1t was in a suit of
Florence's-years ago when first met
her." he said at last.
ooh, and that reminds me, / saw
her yesterday"
Hugh was startled. "Saw Florence
Milton? Where?"
"Here In town, of course. Didn't
think I'd been to Europe, did your"
"But-I thought she wasn't coming
home for another year" persisted
& hugh, TeSumlllS Ills NOIh'
Bob Taylor smiled. He recalled the
fact that Hugh and Florence had once
been observation-disclosures Florence had
gone off to Italy to study sculpture.
That night Hugh did not work with
any other color but the blue.
The next day he called up Mrs. Mil
ton. Ostenslbly, he called her to tell
her how well the blue was working
into the rug. Really, he wanted to
find out the truth about Florence.
! "Why don't you bring it over to
show me, Hugh?" asked Mrs. Milton.
"I-well, l could, at that" he said,
guilty. an put it in the car and
bring 1t around tonight"
II used to make them myself years
ago. My grandmother taught me to
hook rugs out of all the old ties and
silks and make wonderful things. I'd
love to see yours"
But she did not say word about
Florence. Hugh had suspicion that
Bob had been chatting him.
When the door at the Milton home
was thrown open that night the first
| glimpse of the inside. that caught his
/ eye was Florence, herself, standing
there to greet him.
"What-" she began.
ooh, it's rug I've been hooking
and your mother wanted to see it"
he explained.
And then he took both her hands
and looked into her eyes to search for
something that she had told hin was
| not within her.
'Florence-is it there YETI Have
you found out that you care? Is
is that why you came backT'
Florence nodded, while tears filled
| her eyes.
Together they went into the great
living-room where Mrs, Milton sat by
the fire. Hugh showed her the rug
and she detected the blue of Florence's
suit.
"See, DEAR" she said to her daugh-
ter, 81 gave this woolly goods to Hugh
for his cornfower blue. Isn't 1t pref
tyG"
pretty isn't the word" corrected
! Hugh. 1T is wonderful. And into
| the cornfower 1 have woven all the
| s.o,.,,e oe +ho y,oSf faNy wars may