Daily Kennebec journal. [microfilm reel] (Augusta, Me.) 1870-1975, 1924-04-02
THE CHILD-LEAD
Better than all the ballads
That ever were sung or said.
For We are the living poems
And all the rest are dead

anu all tne rest are 0eau.
-Lopgfellow ton Children).
The strains of that wondrous pre-
lude ceased abruptly. Slowly there
emerged from the villa a figure
slightly more awe-inspiring than
that of the others in this rosebud
garden of girls. Mamma" was mas
sively fifty five or more Her head
resembled that of the bust of Beet
hoven. Shocks of thick gray hair
were cropped at her nape,> swept
back from her broad low forehead
and clamped at her temples by clips
turquoise. Her draperies were or
heavy white serge. Roman in effect;
and she wore sandals over bare feet
that were somewhat large, but
straight-tOed and soignes as those
of the shapely American herself.
Mamma, this is that English gen.
tleman, Air. Laverock, that we've all
told you about already, l guess. And
his friend.-This is Madame" -
some outlandish- sounding name that
neither of the young Englishmen
caught-a foreigner, evidently; an
artist, woman of character. by the
Geep-Set granite-gray eyes that
gazed so straight into the faces of
the visitors, to whom she bowed cere-
moniously and in silence.
Young Laverock decided to himself
that the chaperone of this variegated
party had not much English. The
young American widow seemed Civ
ing herself pains to speak slowly and
distinctly as she said good-by to the
older lady, and announced that they
would be home. probably, little late
for supper. Mammals" only reply
was another dignified inclination of
the Beethovenesque head above the
Roman draperies.
Then the girlish mother fluttereu
down the blossom bordered steps,
seeming a moving flower among the
others; her tiny boys white tunic
was pressed close as n butterfly to
her skirt. The two young men fol-
lowed together.
But already at the gate little Mar
Gus Wilmot turned his face up to-
ward Mr.. L.averock, to whom he had
taken one of these child's fancies that
cannot be bought or besought. Con-
fidently he slipped one small paw
into the young mans long fingers. the
other into his mothers hand, and so
trOtted along between them, leaving
wat olllSI 6ClliChldll tclICh-ltD W
join the girls Fastening down the
cobbled streets to the jetty.
~
POS. among those imitation Belgian
hares, the mamma in chief stood for
n moment still as monument to the
memory of chaperonage. gazing after
the party.
She murmured to herself comment
that was hardly fair to. but that
would have been lost upon, the Row
er who did not understand Danish.
In that language she remarked GRIM
ly:
There goes a young man who be-
lives that in three minutes he could
make love to any woman he chose"
A CLEAN of humor shot into those
deep-set eyes Of hers as she added,
1.-The amusing part of it is that he
could"
OF the whole party that futtered
and cha tered their way down to the
slcping stone wharf of the Dinard- ST.
Malo ferry, the person in whom
Archie Laverock took an interest
was-not one of the girls, but just
that four-year- old American boy.
For there Is no compliment on
earth so bcguiling, so potent as the
preference shown by child. To that
tiattery even women yield. Men are
helpless before it.
Young Layrock watched this little
hoy who had taken his hand. The
little boy (faced darkened by dreams.
eyes lightened by SUNSHINE On wa =
ters) watched the movements of the
ferrymen at the quay-side edge.
Turning his small face up, he asked
gravely, What are they doing?"
Some grown-ups complain that
they don't know how to talk" to
small boys. Without considering
this problem, young Laverock had
its solution. He cut out any idea of
special technique and answered the
boy of four as simply as he would
have spoken to a man of four and
twenty.
They are going to maui the wood
en- landing stage round by those
ropes" he explained, 80 that we can
get on to the boat"
INJURED. Yes I" and. still
with his hand in Archie's. watched
the proceedings. For him at that
moment. even his mother had ceased
to exist, as woman does cease to
exist for man under the spell Of
things Delighted. he presently
trotted on to the landing stage,
on to the little steam ferryboat with
the steersman at the top Of her lad
Ger: his child's eyes were all agog
with questions that he presently
turned upon the one other male of
the party.
Say! What's that big. kind O hole
down there on the boat
That's what they call the well
-
water in it?'
NO: it's where they keep the mo-
tors: the engines. YOU know"