Evening star., 1924-12-07


half minute there came another
sharp pull. This time L knew 1 had
something heavy on the hook, so I
pulled in slowly and when Mr.. Cod
Hsh was within three feet of the sur
race l could see him walIowing
around.
EVERY man near joined me in a
hoIier for the boatman to bring the
gaH-a long pole with a hook on the
end-and when he had caught the
hsh under the gill and hauled him on
Geek the weight showed a catch of
y pounds. 1t was a dandy, though
the largest cod caught by the so men
on the boat weighed an even 2S
we reached the bay at 5 pm.
after bully trip. Didn't get a
touch of seasickness, like many Of
the others, but the muscles in my
legs were sore from the heavy rolling
of the boat"
1t seems that this especial joy craft
is a. public excursion boat, at SO much
per fisherman. with prize for whoever
lands the heaviest catch. Lines are pro-
vided. though this chronicler forgot to
ask about eats Anyhow, it Is different
from any voyage We know about, for
two reasons:
We have no Sheepshead Bay within
three hours sail. And we have no cod
| fish.
A MAN, whose open overcoat re-
vealed a waist line like the euua-
tor, came face to face at a street cor
ner with another man whose thin
clothes were of the brown that is pov-
erty's national color There must have
been a past between them, by the way
| the comfortable man felt compelled to
| assume surprised friendliness that he
didn't seem to feel
"Why-er, hello-vel!, well-thought
you had gone by the board long ago.
How are you getting along?"
The man who looked as if the god of
luck mad turned thumbs down on him
PLAYED up valiantly to the situation:
Fine. Making money and would be
getting fat, except the doc makes me
| diet
The only thing worth noting a bout
the small interchange was that the mar
| IN thin clothes was a positive bont
ana gave no evidence whatever of being
acquainted with, say, a dollar bill
Which rather shows that the Spa rtar
boy with the fox under his jacket isn't
In class to himself when it comes t.
the pride that fibs and makes no sign
X X X
LIE looked as if time had gathered
- her face into fine tucks and pulled
the drawing string And her hair
was so sparse that a bony skull
showed between wisps of ashen-gray.
Natures law makes dull things that
creep as we'll as gay things that ly.
| and, in accordance with that law the
woman was a human worm that could
never raise the spunk to turn
though turning is a worms best
stunt.
| AS she stared through the gate
bars of Union Station she somehow
suggested Charlotte Corday-per Cor
coran Gallery pose-though naturally
| a turnless worm could not otherwise
favor the Joan OF the French Revo-
| luton. Nor did she once convey own
ership of folks, except. of course.
that she must be expecting some one
| by the way she waited-and waited
and waited.
| AS each train choo- -chooed under
| the umbrella shed she perked up with
eager anxiety. and at each disap-
| pointment subsided into the Corday
pose and an expression entirely her
| own.
At last-there is always an at last,
| you notice, no matter how long it
| takes in coming-at last a man
| swung ahead of the string of homing
! travellers, and at sight of him the
| depressed anXiety-or was it fear
gave way to surprise JOY.
"Lo, little Mom.''
! The turned worm was Immediately
apotheosized into exulting mother
hood, as she quayered out:
''Son-my Son
Son wasn't in the worm class-not
| by any means. He was a big joint
| ed, yellow-tushed, red faced. gray
| haired. fast-striding sE Pluribus
| Unum eagle of man. And when the
| eagle swooped down on the worm!
One moment, please, to change the
metaphor-honest, only experts in
| language ought to he allowed to
| roam free among the flowers OF
| speech.
What happened was that the giant
of man lifted the small woman as
| If she had been a little child and
kissed her with an honest gladness
| that made any looker-on know that
whatever anxiety absence had caused
her was banished at sight of un-
| doubted filial love:
| It's all right, mammy-Tm doing
fine, and you are going back to make
me another home-no more trouble
| for you in this world-mother."
| Which shows-to go back to the
| wrecked metaphor-there may be
| worms in natural history and out %
it that have no occasion to turn.
|