Evening star., 1922-01-15
T LOOKS like I was giving Inez

what she wants, which still
seems to be the main PROPOSE
tion. Anyway, since she managed
to croquet herself out OF rich uncie
and we've had to shift from swell
Park Avenue apartment to a top floor
studio loft just around the corner
from Third avenue, Inez has shaken
of that peevish disposition she was
acquiring and appears to enjoy her
gum once more.
'It's nice here, eh, Trilby May?
she remarks the other day after shed
finished scrubbing everything about
the place, including the floors, win
dows and ceiling.
"Quite cozy," says I. ''Of course,
every time an L train goes by in the
night I wonder If 1t isn't going to
Craze my toes. but I suppose we'll
sure have a weird-looking lot Of neigh
bors."
"Yes," admits Inez. Some of 'em
looks funny. but they're all nice peo-
pie. Not stuck up or anything
"Folksy. eh?" says l.
"Sure!" says Inez.
It's a fact. In all the months We
lived on Park avenue nobody ever
dropped in at Sis p. m. to borrow a
pair of eggs. or at noon to wish a
hunk Of Gorgonzola cheese on US, or
at midnight to tell us the story of
their lives. But here. where stores
and factories and living quarters
were jumbled in the same buildings:
IL,
speak at least three languages, in
GLIDING a little English: where the
scent of garlic hung heavy in the air
and people stopped in doorways to
chat-well, here it was different.
X X X
CMALL town stuff, that's what it
was. only in place of a Main street
fnere was the block. You spoke of i:
40 ''our block" Inez hadn't been here
xhree days before she sprung that on
fcA. And she meant just the block
mont that we lived on. The other
three fronts, facing on different
streets and avenues, might have been
foreign countries, as far as she knew.
In fact, they were. For instance. to
the west Of US was Poland, with a
Polish club, a Polish newspaper and
stores with Polish signs over the win
dows. To the east was Palestine,
floor synagogue. On the south we
were bounded by Bohemia OF course.
it was only fake Bohemia, so called
by the colony of artists and near
artists who lived in the renovated
tenements with tiled and succeed
fronts. Our back windows looked
into their skylights.
As for our block front, it was a
near-east mixture, with Syrians and
Armenians in the majority, but with
a sprinkling of almost any race you
could name. We were about the only
American delegates, so far as I could
discover.
almost makes me feel" told Inez,
"that we ought to have passports. or
something. I'll bet they call us those
foreigners don't they?
They don't call names. them" in
sists Inez. "All nice people"
"Thatll help, them" says I, land
I'm just as ready to be friendly as the
next one"
So when A. Kourken, the rug re-
storer on the floor below, slips me the
Armenian for Good morning, dearie."
I smiles back at him and suggests
that it's a rotten day outside. Also
I mods chummy to Nine. Roster as I
passes the floor Of her artificial flower
establishment. and when Signor Bar
doni, the violin teacher. sweeps off
his dusty black felt hat and makes
me low bow I stop and ask him If
he has many pupils this winter.
But Inez seems to get on with our
neighbors even better than that. For
ono thing. she has more time, and
for another she's simply hungry to
gossip with some one. I don't think
I quite realized how lonesome she
used to get there in the apartment,
with no one but Uncle Nels and the
maid to talk to. For while Inez isn't
what you might call fluent con-