Evening star., 1923-03-18

| to think greenly. But first we must
learn to see greenly. How shall we
accomplish this? Put green in our
eyes? Impossible unfortunately. But
our noses-there is the solution. In
direct proximity to the eye. the color
properly applied, tints ones vision Of
all things. Green shadows in green
world" mooned Cyrus the Gaunt
poetically. LAS the bard puts 1t:
'Annihilating all that's made
To a green thought in a green
shade"
Wait a minute said the visitor,
and made a note on an envelope back.
Accordingly, Miss Barbran, the
daughter and heiress Of a millionaire
cattle owner in Wyoming (here the
reporter made his second note), has
established this center where We meet
to renew and refresh our souls"
Good" said the benevolent report
er. 'F'ine. OF course it's AL bunk
Bunk" echoed Barbran and Phil.
aghast, while Cyrus sat with his lank
jaw dropping.
You don't see any OF your favor
| ite color in my eye, do you?" in
| Quired the visitor pleasantly. Just
| what you're putting over I don't
know. Some kind Of new grease
| paint, perhaps. Don't tell me. It's
good enough, anyway. I'll fall for
it. It's worth a page story. OF
course, I'll want some photographs
of the mural paintings They're al
most painfully beautiful. What's
| wrong with our young friend? Is
he sick?" he added. looking with as
constituent at Phil Stacey. who was
exhibiting sub-nauseous symptoms
HE painted EN-" explained Cyrus,
grinning.
"And he's sorry" supplemented
Barbran.
YES: ] wouldn't wonder. Well, I
won't give him away" said the kindly
journalist "Now, as to the member
ship of your CIRCLE
The Sunday STORY" covered a full
| page. The "millionairess" feature
was played up conspicuously and re-
peatedly, and the illustrations did
what little the text failed to do. 1t
was Josh story" from beginning to
| end.
I'll kill that pious fraud of re-
porter" declared Phil.
"Now the place is ruined mourned
| Barbrar.
"wait and see" advised the wiser
| Cyrus.
II X
lCREAT is the power of publicity.
~ The Wrightery was swamped
with custom on the Monday evening
following publication and for the rest
| of that week and the succeeding
week.
"I never was good at figures" said
the transported Barbran to Phil Sta
cey at the close Of the month, "but
as near as can make out I've q clear
profit of 1910. My fortune is made!
And it's all due to YOU
Had the Bonnie Lassie been able to
hold her painted retainers in line,
| the owners golden prophecy might
have been made good. But they had
other matters on hand for their even
1 ings than sitting about in a dim cell
| lar gazing cross-eyed at their own
scandalous noses. MacLachan was
the first detection. He said that he
was going crazy and he knew he was
going blind. The Little Red Doctor
was unreliable, owing to the pres
sure of professional calls. He COM
planned. with some justice, that a
green nose on a practicing physician
| tended to impair confidence. Then
Leon Coventry went away, and Boggs
discovered Cor invented) an impor-
tant engagement with a growing
family of clothes moths in a Connec-
ticut country house. SO there re-
mained only the faithful Phil. One
swallow does not make a summer,
nor does one youth with a vernal
| proboscis convince skeptfcal pub
lie that It is enjoying the fearful
companionship of a subversive and
revolutionary cult. Patronage ebbed
out as fast as It had flooded in. Bar
| bran's eyes were as soft and happy
as ever in the evenings. when she
/, and Phil sat in less and less inter-
rupted solitude. But in the mornings
paIpable fear stalked her. Phil never
/ saw it. He was preoccupied with a
dread Of his own.
One evening of bowling wind and
hammering rain, when all was cozy
| and home-like for two in the little
firelit Wrightery, she nerved herself
up TO fading tAs fActA