The Birmingham age-herald., 1924-02-04

Clarissa Pitcher Nnfolded her idle hands and looked across the room at her sister Joan, who was staring at nothing and rubbing her chin.
 "Why don't you knit--or-read- or-sew?" she suggested.
 "Why don't you?" Joan returned not tartly, as might have been ex pected.
 .Oh. I don't want to-" Clarissa an swered
 Neither do l." said Joan. Y
 Clarissa sighed and Joan echoed with another sigh. Again they gazed past each other and stared at nothing
 It was mild February day, the air was mild with thaw and there was sound of icciles letting go where they had clung so long and falhps with the tinkle of breaking glass-'' day full of anticipations and sugges- tions of the first robin, the first cro- GUS, of swelling buds. And yet for the two old ladies it held nothng.
 There they sat, the two of them, where they had sat all. winter, Cla- rissa in the little straight-backed rocker-she liked chair that would keep her spinal column unbent, no Topper or lounger was Clarissa-Joan in deeper, more commodious chair with a cushion between her shoulderblades where the cold spot was. The room was warm1 and cozy if small and plain. There was a geranium on the sill. a few books, work baskets and invita- tions to enjoyment. But tall. slim Clarissa with her dark eyes, and tiny, plump Joan with her blue ones had long since passed the point where con tent ceases and endurance begins.
 II don't take no interest," Clarissa said.
 Nor k agreed Joan.
 'Tm tired of sitting here-waiting, Clarissa went on.
 50 am l." nodded Joan. Youth goes so fast; there isn't anything oi it when you come to think of it. But old age She paused.
 'Oh age' said Clarissa. lis likt an old garment that you must veal out but which hangs on and hangs on till you're, sick and tired of it.
 ''Oh, hum !' yawned Joan.
 "Oh hum.' sighed Clarissa.
 II wish somebody would come in, 
 any more. I guess they get sick of the sight of us sitting here:'
 Il don't blame them," said Clarissa There was silence.
 "Joan," Clarissa said, :" We ought l to begin to give away our things il we're ever going to. I've been think any use for them much longer, and | u;x xxyh, got our faculties. There's my. little gold stone pin; I'd like Angie Bar rett to have that
 T want Mary Potter should have my duchess point collar said Joan ''But if l leave it behind me no know ing whether she'll get it or not"
 And the luster pitcher and grand pas daguerreotype-they ought to g to Helen Appleby.
 And the spoons that were ham mered out of silver dollars to Jenn Barrett" Joan began to look strangel animated.
 T don't know as anybody w0ul, care for the hair wreaths." Clarissa' :! black eyes began to gather light.
 Lucy Worden ought to; they were made out of family hair" | tbut tHC WuA CIOSS llOSb dHyDOuN would be glad of," Clarissa commented
 T do think with you, Clarissa that we ought to begin to distribute our little tokens. I've great mint to go over to Angles now and talk, her my little gold stone pin"
 If you do." Clarissa said, T shal carry my duchess point collar tt Mary, Potter"
 They sighed again and arose.
 Half an hour later they left tbeil home together. At the street the, paused and looked at each other. Ola rissa looked very severe in her deat black, Joan looked equally severe 1T her dead black.
 Well v Clarissa said.
 Then like two little soldiers they turned each to her own direction.
 Poor Joan." Clarissm thought a. she went toward her old friend Angie Barrett's house.
 Angie met her at the door. She was as old as Clarissa, but lovely ir new oldfashioned way.
 Come in Y she cried. "You ain't been to see me in a month of Sun days. How are you, Clarissa? Fol