Evening star., 1922-07-30

motorists following the great
green way up into the White Noun
tains. as they zoomed past this dingy
white farmhouse on the edge of
Chenwick, n. H., if they gave our
place a glance at all, thought to
themselves. What deadly dull
place that would be to have to live
In" 1 know I've often had such
thoughts.
From the road. too. we must seem
rather ssedy and commonplace. Just
a squatty. rambling old farmhouse.
with a row of empty sheds trailing
off towards a great unpainted barn:
dinky little front yard shut in by
white picket fence, with a clump of
lilac bushes in one corner and a
syringa bush in the other: some of
the faded green shutters hanging by
one hinge: few bricks off the cor
ner of the chimney top: lot of
scraggly apple trees on one side, and
fields of thin. uncut hay stretching off
to the woods as a background. You
might guess that the people who lived
here were poor. lifeless lot who
hadn't known any excitement since
last winter. when the pump froze up.
II y easy " ColiSCt huhN II
like that. and in nearly every case it's
dead wrong. There are thousands
aud thousands of drearier looking
places than ours, and every one of
them is to some one the exact center
of the universe. the spot where the
big show is going on. Also living in
them isn't ever quite so monotouous
as you might guess.
TAKE our little bunch. as a
sample. Three weeks ago we'd
drifted up here from New York. just
on casual week end jaunt. with
hunt for an old aunt of mine as an
excuse. And the next thing I knew
Id inherited this farm and we had
camped down here for night or so.
Then we'd acquire Sairy Jewett as
cook, her daughter Mille as a maid,
and Dunk, the ex-burglar. as outside
man. And here we were. Only at
the present moment. owing to a
nutty move of Barry Platt's, we were
about to have a honeymoon couple
wished on us. including a smart
setty bride who'd recently spent the
winter in an Italian villa. In fact.
We were staring down the Keene
road watching for them to show up.
Have you decided just which
wagon shed you'll tell 'em to back
the Rolls-Royce into. Barry" l asked.
All l got from him was a worried
look and a shoulder hunch.
Suppose they have a foreign
chauffeur and a French maid?" !
went on "Wherem we put en-"
"Oh, I say. Trilby May" protests |
Barry. Jarvis Walters isn't apt to
carry any such side as that Just |
Young architect. you know
But this Nan Winthrop he was
married to at high noon." 1 insists. |
lis quite accustomed to all the lux
uries Look at that half column |
account of the wedding in the Boston |
transcripts real bishop to tie the |
knot, six bridesmaids in periwinkle |
blue, the church chancel banked with |
American beauty roses. and whaling |
big reception in the winthrop man
sion. And you waiting to welcome |
them in a golf suit and rusty sport |
shoes"
"A dinner coat would be hot |
thing to wear in shack like this
wouldn't it?" he growls. TEsT ecially |
if Miss Jewett sticks to her unusual
dining room costume"
"Alillie has prepared for the big |
event by washing out a pair of
khaki knickers especially for the |
occasion" says I. Even now she is |
easing herself into them, with the aid |
of shoe horn
DAIRY let's out groan. She's |
- a sight. that girl" says he. "Of |
course, we have become rather ac-
customed to a husky Hebe in a
basket ball uniform. but I'm afraid |
she's going to give the new Mrs.
Jarvis Walters a distinct jolt. I do |
hope Sairy has concocted something |
dainty for supper"
Then you're an optimist plus,
Barry" says !. This is Saturday |
per schedule. the regulation New
Hampshire menu for the week end |
meal-baked beans, brown bread and |
hot doughnuts. with tea and two
kinds of pie Sairy would quit fiat if |
asked her to cook anything diff |
ferent: and believe me, I'm not TAX
Ing any such chance
ooh, WELL" sighs Barry. They'll |
Just have to stand it. that's all. It's |
time they were showing up. though;
that is, unless Jarvis has missed the !,
way, or forgotten where he was
headed for. It's quite like him. and
almost wish
You don't get your wish, Barry"
saysfI, for here comes car with |
white ribbons streaming from the i
radiator cap. Aren't these your
honeymooners?
.Ir that fivver.'' says he. 1T
isn't slikely."
But the young chap who was driv- |
ing WAS already waving at Barry, |
and the next minute he had whirled |
the painting Lizzie up to our front |
gatesand was piling out. I'm sure 1t !
was "a relief to Barry when he saw |
that his guest wasn't wearing striped |
trousers and a frock coat, but was In |
golf togs, too. The big surprise came. i
however, when the bride stepped out. |
She was in knickers, also. 1t wasn't |
any fashion-show sports model OF
fancy tweed. but a plain, serviceable |
olive drab. with Norfolk coat and |
leather leggins.
True, the suit had zippy lines to it.
especially the semi-riding breeches, |
but you could tell by the faded color |
that 1t had seen lot of wear and |
wasn't just out of store. She's |
slim. graceful young person, the !
bride, and only the bone-rimmed
.,,..focIes gave her Q college girl |