Evening star., 1924-12-17
THIS. T AND THAT
BY CHARLES Z. ,TRAcEwELL.

i, street any afternoon now is, a
glittering parade ground, whereon
may be seen the flower and beauty OF
our fair city, all dressed up In silk
and furs, engaged in the pleasant
duty of Christmas shopping. 80
Washington's one and only F street
always presents a scenerof loveliness
and .pfvacity. Even 'on thes hottest
Summer afternoon 1t is unique. But
the three weeks before Christmas
finds 1t at its best.
Now any afternoon perfect streams
of humanity flow east and west along
its sidewalks. while in the street au-
tomobiles present a jam. which re.
minds one Of scenes to be witnessed
in much larger cities.
There Is an electric something &c
the atmosphere, brought about, OF
course, by the gathering OF so many
finely dressed, happy, healthy people
all bent on finding some gift for
mother, or some present for father
or ten presents for little Jimmie or
Jane, or something for Aunt Mary
Christmas is in the air. 1t greets
one. from the shop windows, 1t looks
out from the bright eyes of girls and
women, it shouts to one in the voices
of little children, expectant of seeing
Santa Claus.
What would we not give, you and
l, to be able to see Santa Claus agair
with the eyes of youth,
That is something that comes only
once. For surely Santa Claus is 9
sort of magical parsonage. He wears
an invisible cloak, hiding his rea
self from our gross eyes. but reveal
ing his personality in all its glowing
colors to the fresh young eyes of the
little ones.
They see Santa Claus, unchanging
! undying Kris Krinkle, where you ant
only see-let US whisper It, fol
shame--an old pretender whose false
whiskers we long to pluck from his
face. They see more than we see
| they possess more than we possess.
Who can deny it?
4 4 r
A fine white hunting dog, sporting
a tremendous bandage around his
/ head, walks along crowded F street
Poor doggie! Poor doggie!" say the
beautiful ladies, stopping In pity tc
| pet that portion of his head un.
adorned.
The dog seems to know and appre.
| ciate the sympathy lavished upor
him. His great brown eyes glean
| from underneath his bandages with
| an understanding light.
How he got hurt is a mystery, ant
must remain so, for just then tha
woman who has the dog on least
| hustles him down the pavement, leav.
| ing an impromptu group of shopper,
| talking together about the injured
canine.
| They seem somewhat astonished a.
| finding themselves, utter strangers
| conversing so freely Now that tn,
| dog is gone, the sole bond of unioI
| between them is gone, too.
Restraint enters. where before mu
| tual sympathy prevailed. First Oil,
| woman leaves, then another. unit
! shortly the group is dissolved bach
| again into the flow of pedestrian.
| from which it came.
How absurd, and yet how natural
| this restraint of human beings on,
| with another! We pass along, we Sc,
! those whom we would like to know
| They look back, they seem TO like us
| The language of the eyes Is unn1is
| taxable. ".-.
The optic lingo Is older than AM
| International language. 1t transcend
| race and creed, time and space. I
says things plainly, usually unmis
| takably, too.
"If 1 see you in the crowd, VIII.
| should I not speak TO your" asked
| barbaric Walt Whitman. Why not
| indeed. Well, only convention anC
| the police and a few other little fac
| tors such as that. Not day passe,
! but most of us see at least a dozer
persons whom we know we woult
like. The joke of 1t is that something
also tells US they would like US
| too. Yet we dare not speak.