San Antonio light. [volume] (San Antonio, Tex.) 1911-1993, 1923-02-25
The fabric of my faithful Lore
No pOUer shall dim or rdUeI,
WhiIstI stay here-but oh, my dear,
If should eUer trdUen -MiHoy

ilHeH tlOSelS. vi, MdAlHe
Well live there"
Not l." said Maxine, crisply. Ar
mold watching her, knew what she
was going to say before she said it.
I'm going to see the world. want
to penetrate a civilization so old that
its history wanders down the cen
turtles and is lost in the dim mists of
mythology" (See Baedeker.)
Sudden wealth had given Arnold a
new masterfulness. Marry me be-
fore you 60"
Not at ALL" replied Maxine. "On
the boat going over"
Over where?"
Honolulu, on my way to Japan.
III meet a tall bearded stranger, sun
burned, with the flame of the Orient
in his eyes, and on his thin, cruel,
mouth"
Arnold Hatch took off his glasses.
Maxine stiffened. Don't you d"
But she was too late.
There" said Arnold, "he'll have to
have some beard, and some flame, and
some thing, cruel mouth to make you
forget that one
Maxine started, alone, against her
mothers circumstances.
On the first two days out on the
way to the Hawaiian islands she
spent all her time in her bed. But
the swell subsidized, and the wind went
down and Maxine appeared on deck
and in another twelve hours had met
everyone from the purser to the
honeymoon couple, in the surprising
way one does on these voyages. She
looked for the tall bearded stranger
with the sunburn of the Orient and
the thin. cruel lips. But he didn't
seem to be about. Strangely enough,
everyone she talked to seemed to be
from Nebraska or Kansas or Iowa,
or Missouri. Not only that, they all
were very glib with names and places
that had always seemed mythical and
glamorous.
ooh, yes, Mr.. Tannenbaum and I
went to India last year, and Persia
and around. Real interesting. My,
but they're dirty, those towns. We
used to kick about Des Moines, now
that they use so much soft coal, and
the manufacturing and all. But my
land, it's paradise compared to those
places. And the food Only decent
meals We had in Egypt was a place
in Cairo called Pardee's, run by a
woman whose husbands left her or
died, or something. Real home-lov-
ing woman she was. Such cooking
Why, that's so! Your names
Pardee, too, itsn't it! Well l always
say to Mr.. Tannenbaum, it's a small
world, after all. No relation, of
course?"
"Of course not" How suddenly safe
Oklahoma seemed. And Arnold
Hatch.
Where You going from Honolulu,
Miss Pardee?"
"Samarkand."
BEG pardon"
"Samarkand."
'tOh, yeh, Samar-let's see now /;
where is that, exactly. l used to
know, but I'm such hand for for
getting"
81 don't know" said Maxine, dis
tinctly.
"Don't-but I thought you said you
were going" -.
II am. But I don't know where it
is"
'"Then how"
"You just go to an office, where
there are folders and a man behind
the desk, and you say you want to go
to Samarkand. He shows you. You
get on a boat. That's ALL"
The people from Iowa and Kansas
and Nebraska and Missouri said,
Oh, yes, and there was nothing like
travel. So broadening. Maxine ask
ed them if they knew about the Vale
of Kashmir and one of them, as
toundingly enough, did. A man from
Milwaukee, Wisconsin, who had spent
a year there experimenting the cree
ton of a dredgc. A pump man, with
eyeglasses and perpetually chewing Il
dead cigar.
Gold and sunlight. myrrh and in
cense, the tinkling Of anklets. Max
inc chung TO these wildly, in her mind.
But Honolulu, the MOana Hotel on
Waikiki Beach. treasured her. 1t was
her dream come true. She knew it
would be so when she landed and got
her first glimpse Of the dark-skinned
natives on the docks, their hats and
necks laden with leis of flowers. There
were palm trees. There were flaming
hibiscus hedges. Her bed was can
opted with white netting. like that of
a princess (the attendant explained it
was TO keen out the mosquitocs.)
You ate strange fruits (thPy grew
little sickening, after day or twO).