The Washington herald., 1922-06-20
FEATURES, FICTION
TUESDAY JUNE ao Ieaa
ICazpIete%Dm1ef'::Ma. ::
y Bpoc1Wus ROY COHEN ~1 3r
TUESDAY, JUNE 40, Ieaa.

Y III
sons immediate future and profess
sional status. Sis Callie was on the
job.
1t was but the work of a moment
to put on her best made over hat
and hit a due course for the pre-
tentious residence of Mr.. Lisha Tor
ring, where dwelt Mrs. Edner Tor
ring.
There reigned in the heart of Sis
Callie Flukers a deep and abiding
dislike for Mrs. Torring. In fact,
there were few feminine members
Of Birmingham's duskiest society
crowd who had anything Of the
elegiac to quote regarding the new
est addition to their inner circle.
The principal fault to be found
with Edner Torring was that she
was pretty. Even her enemies were
unable to deny that compliment.
She was a rich chocolate in COM
plexion, with a figure lavish in
curves which were placed where
curves are most desirable. More,
she was a travelled woman. having
at various times in her career re-
sided in cities as far apart as Ban
gor, Maine. and San Antonio, Tex.
She claimed acquaintanceship with
every colored notable in the coun-
try. and from the day of her Birm-
ingham advent as bride to the
wealthy and influential Lisha Tor
ring she swept her way to social
supremacy with the naughty be-
som of a duenna.
She found Edner summing herself
on the veranda of the Torring
home. Sis Callie snorted at sight
of her enemy. Some day she hoped
to find Edner looking shoddy and
shabby and disheveled and human
But thus far that ambition had
been far from realization. Edner
appeared always ready for a party.
a society tea. a trip to the movies.
Today was no exception.
She greeted her skinny, garrul-
Gus. acid tongued visitor with soft,
mild words of welcome and bade
her be seated in the most comfort
able chair of a very comfortable
porch suite. Sis Callie banged an
agonistically into a sitting pos
tore and laid down a barrage.
Reckon you thinks you knows
mos evything. doesn't you. Mis-
Torring?"
Not hahdly. Sis Callie."
We'll, then, you thinks you
knows mos ev'ything?"
mt neither I amt claimin' that"
An You knows heap of promi-
nent cullud folks?"
Some sev'aI."
"WelI'-and Sis Callie leaned
forward venomously-"is you ever
hear tell of a cullud artist?"
Edner's figure grew a bit rigid
and her eyes opened with interest.
"A which," she inquired.
"A cullud artist-a feller which
paints pitchers fo' a livin'.''
Edner shrugged. They amt no
such a thing.
Amt there?" beamed Sis Callie
triumphantly.
Il amt never hearn tell of one"
HUH Mis- Torring, they's a heap
of things you don know nothin'
'bout-an' art is one of 'em. An as
TO reemahkin' that they aint no
cullud artist-'thout meanin' to be
pussonal. Mis- Torring. you makes
me think that ign'runce bouten art
is the on'y thing you amt got moth
in else but
6uHcE sHeeESu. lou says "OTQSp
Sis Callie. but they don make
sense"
How come not?
Fun what you says you ac's
like you espec's me to b'lieve you
knows sumthin' bout cullud artists"
Il does, Mis- Torring. Fu'ther-
mo-, 1 claims that the bes' cullud
artist which is is one of my mos
bestest firms"
Huh! You says. What his is?"
is?"
''Lymus Johnson"
How 1 knows you know him?"
Well" triumphed Sis Callie, II
amt never hearn tell of no gen'Ie-
man artist visitin' at the home of
no lady if'n she di'n't know him
pretty good"
Thereupon Sis Callie left in a
sudden glow of glory. Straight to
Lustisha Atcherson she went to give
the details of her interview with
Edner. Lustisha was all a-quiver.
"A sho-nuff, hons-t-Gawd artist,
Sis CALLER
"Tha's it. Mis- Atcherson. A reg
alar paintin' fool"
4oN AS 4OOAo 4lhcs
We-e-n," apologized the thin
spinster, he aln't so much on the
eye, but he's terrible brainy in the
haid. An fust time l took sight of
him l knowed he was sumthin'
diffrunt."
Lustisha rose and made for her
boudoir.
Where you gwine?' inquired Sis
Callie.
ITO git me my hat" responded
Lustisha.
"Whano?'
Use gwine to yo' home with you
to invite this heah Mistuh Artist
johnson to deliver a address to the
Upllft Sassiety at mex Chuesday's
meetin'."
En- route to Miss Flukes' home
the militant pair met Miss PrissiIla
Wattles. And as the critical eve
Of Lustisha catalogued the physical
charms of Prissilla an idea came
a-borning. and she fired a question
at Sis Callie.
This heah Lymus Johnson-is he
a mated man."
Nom. That is. he lows he amt.
an he suttinly amt got no wifes
with him."
"Mmm! Mawnin' Prissilla."
"Mawnin'. Mis- Atcherson. Mawn-
in, Sis Callie. How you is this
mawnin'?''
"Tol'able, thank the Lawd. How
things is with you. Prissilla?"
Prissilla giggled. Things amt
so wuss they COUNT be wusser."