Evening star., 1923-07-01

|
IL more nearly up to his eyebrows
in the tender emotion. He thought OF
Mary when he was changing his wet
shoes: he dreamed of her while put
| ting flannel next his skin; he yearned
| for her over the evening arrowroot.
Why. the man was such slave to his
devotion that he actually went to the
length Of purloinlng small articles
! belonging to her. Two days after
driving off the first tee with one of
her handkerchiefs. a powder puff and
dozen hairpins secreted in his left
breast pocket. When dressing for
dinner he used to take them out and
look at them, and at night he slept
with them under his pillow. Heavens,
how he loved that girl!
One evening, when they had gone
out into the garden togther to look
at the new moon-Rollo. by his
mothers advice. wearing a wooden
scarf to protect his throat-he en-
edeavored to bring the conversation
| round to the important subject.~Mary's
last remark had been about earwigs.
Considered as a cue. 1t lacked subtle
something. but Rollo was not the man
to be discouraged by that.
Talking of earwigs, Miss Kent" he
said In low, musical voice, "have
| you ever been in love?'
| Mary was silent for a moment be-
fore replying.
| "Yes. once-when l was eleven
| with a conjurer who came to perform
at my birthday party. He took a rab-
bit and two eggs out of my hair. and
life seemed one grand sweet song"
Never since them"
Never"
Suppose. just for the sake Of argu-
| ment-suppose you ever did love any
one; what-er-a sort Of man would It
be?'
"A hero" said Mary promptly.
"A hero?" said Rollo. somewhat
taken aback. What sort Of hero?"
ANY sort. I could love only a real
ly brave mana man who had done
some wonderful heroic action"
"Shall we go in?" said Rollo hoarse-
ly. The air is a little chilly"
| We have now arrived at a period in
| Rollo Podmarsh's career which might
! have inspired those lines of Henley's
| about "the night that covers me,
black as the pit from pole to pole" "
In addition to being hopelessly in
love. he was greatly depressed about
| his golf.
On Rollo in his capacity Of golfer
I have so far not dwelt- Outwardly
placid. Rollo was consumed inwardiy
by an ever-burning fever Of ambition.
! champion, nor even to win a monthly
medal, but he did with his whole soul
desire one of these days to go round
| the course in under a hundred. This
| feat accomplished, 1t was his inten-
tion to set the seal on his golfing ca
reer by playing a real money-match:
and already he had selected his oppo-
nent. certain Col. Bodger. lottery
performer of advanced years, who for
the last decade had been a martyr to
lumbago.
But 1t began to look as IL even the
|
himself were beyond his powers Day
after day he would step onto the fir ST
tee. glowing with zeal and hope, only
to crawl home in the quiet evenfall
with another hundred and twenty on
his card. He was one of those golfers
| who never seem to have what you
might call a full hand. If he was on
| his drive, he was off his putting;
| every time he struck good vein of
putting, something was bound to 60
wrong with his iron shots; and on the
rare occasion when 1t seemed as
though he was at the top of his form
in all branches of the game. a half
gale was sure to spring up, and that
! dished him absolutely every time.
Little wonder, then, that he began to
| lose his appetite and would moan
| feebly at the sight of a poached egg.
With Mrs. Podmarsh sedulously watch
| ing over her sons health, you might
have supposed that this inability on his
part to teach the foodstuffs to take a
| joke would have caused CONSERVATION
in the home. But 1t so happened that