New Britain herald., 1922-07-08
What Happened in the Village Store

What Happened in the Village store
 To my great relief, Dicky's car, sometimes a temperamental object proved to be entirely tractahle So directly after breakfast with Mother Graham and Junior enseonced in the tonneau, and ecstatic Marion beside he. we started for Easthampton.
 My mother-in-lsw's mood had not improved even with the delicious breakfast Katie had given us, and I foresaw day before me in which Mother Graham. as Dicky's comment gan. dared anybody to please her" However. l did my best in the way Of occasional remarks, for I knew she hated to ride in silence.
 How bracing the air is :" I began banally afraid to choose any but the tritest topics.
 Its good enough" she returned caustically, but If you tell me that it's like wine I shall get right out of this car"
 l flushed at the bull's-eye. for have been guilty of using the over worked old simile frequently. But to me 1t is always especially appropriate. There is something about the autumn air which exhilarates.
 Mother Graham Complains.
 Its too warm for wine" returned with a mighty effort to make my. voice good -natured.
 Warm? Warm :" she repeated with an effect of sowing exclamation points broadcast like seed Well . if this Is what you call warm. I'm glad had sense enough to put on this heavy coat. I'd been freezing to death if I hadn't. As is is I'm shiv- ering And you1l have your death of cold with just that sweater. But then you never will take anybody's advice.
 I had heard this tirade many times before. but I never cease being alarmed by one feature of it. When Mother Graham speaks of feeling chi- ly we all come to heel, She has had too many narrow escapes from penu- monia for us to take any chances. Il was fairly sure that she was exag- gerating when she talked of shivering, but it behooved me to find out. So swerved the car to the side of the road and stopped it.
 What in tunket has happened now? Something gone wrong with this caro I knew If I started-"
 Nothing is wrong with the car, Mother I interrupted, but you spoke of shivering, and I though per haps if I put the rear curtains on they would keep the breeze away | You mustn't get chilled"
 She had the grace to look a bit ashamed of herself, but her voice lost none of it's sharpness.
 The Man of Mystery.
 When I want the curtains on I'll | tell you she snapped. If I want to shut myself up inside curtains I nn stay at home. I'm not going to get any hurt You drive along and get there sometime" I accordingly drove along the winding road through stretches of prineval forest to the loveliest of all Long Island villages. never drive through it's ancient Common with it's pond in which dropping willows are n1irrored with its churchyard slop- ing to the pool, with the stately an-' cient houses set in exquisite century old gardens on either side, that I do
 
 achronism. Surely there should be TO vehicle here more recent than color ful chaises. And powdered wigs, ruff fled skirts and silken shirts should reign instead of tennis fannels and golf knickers.
 But there Is a very modern side to the old village, nevertheless, and we presently reached it and parked be- fore q most attractive looking store. which to my eyes seemed most metro politan.
 Once inside, Mother Graham, with lorsnette held before her eyes, swept up one aisle and down another with the stateliness and Miniature of cross old swain. A patient, courteous saleswoman who had often waited on me to my entire satisfaction, tried in vain to please her, while the proprie- tor and the other clerks, momentarily idle looked on, creditably eoncealing their amusement or annoyance-prob- ably both--at her caustic comments, and I felt my cheeks getting hotts and more crimson with every succeed ing outburst upon her part.
 We had reached the rear Of the store, and I with Junior had taken shelter behind a rack of draperies, when there was a flurry-no other word describes it--in the front of the