The Washington times., 1924-01-17
CHAPTER XVI.
Old and Young.

Not quite 80 jubilant-not quite
so thrilled with her own youth
and prettiness, Chickie walked
down the block. She gulped once
or twice. She didn't have to take
orders from Jonathan. He didn't
own her. She'd tell him that!
Oh, yes! And have him give
her a hurt, tragic look. as though
she were stepping on his
throat
They took advantage of her
love-Jonathan and her mother
did. She knew 1t. She could no
more stand up and say to them: "I
earn my own way. I'll do as I
please" than she could strike
them. She would suffer any sub.
, terfuge, any evasion rather than
deal them a blow like this.
Just the same she was deter
mined rigidly on one thing-shO
would not turn her back on all
the new pleasures that were now
opening to her. Oh, she had
wanted them far too long:
OOIbA6Sy dASOA N10A0Ny WHO'LL 6ItE
had loafed around the house, or
visited Mary or gone to q movie
with Jimmy, how she had longed
to be racing down the country in
an automobile, speeding off on
joyous picnic to some beautiful
woodside. Often when she saw
the machlnes-thousands of them
returning In the evening down
Mission street, fruit blossoms, red
pepper berries. peoples waving
from the sides, she had stood
still with eagerness. She had
thought with clustering expect
ance: Some day! My turn!
Soon"
Now It was come the
bright new life. She ran to meet
1t. ardently waiting for it to
sweep upon her like a tide,
strong and beautiful. alive with
its own music. Oh-she was
young. She had a right to this.
Half way up the garden walk
she plucked a pink rose, ran her
trembling fingers over the soft
leaves. What was Jonathan go
ing to say? Would he insult
her? Would he lay down some
ridiculous laws?
She wondered what Martha
Blake would say to this. Chickie
had a picture in her mind OF the
Blake mother. 1t was Of q tall,
emple-busted woman-an elemen-
tai figure, carrying a baby on
her hip-always q baby. Cook
ing the dinner, standing at the
door to buy vegetables from q
peddler, the Immortal infant"
as Mary called 1t, was always in
evidence.
They were Martha's grand
children. They overran her house
from the time her own youngest,
Tommy, was in arms. Martha
was a perennial mother, a great,
faithful tree, taking no laurels to
herself, but doing her part with
wise, serene tolerance.
With her deep mind and her
mellow heart she might have
flashed her name brilliantly be-
fore the world. But she had loved
and married. Seven children had
come to her. They were her COM
pensationS.
Sometimes, indeed. seeing them
dissatisfied, her mind nagged her
with disturbing questions.
After all, had she the right to
bring all these children here?
Suppose they should be unhappy?
Suppose they should scorn the
gift of life thrust upon them so
audaciously? They often remind
ed her that they had not asked
to come; they told her very cool
ly that her wish for children was
a purely selfish instinct. It did
not merit gratitude from them.
Martha agreed. She found no
answers for her problems. She
met them with a brave, adven-
turous trust in the future.
Chickie loved Martha Blake.
She was such an easy, pleasant
person-one that you could ac-
cost carelessly like this, well,