The Monmouth inquirer., 1924-07-17
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Heavy Artillery
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How well she tallsl" exclaimed
Angelica, as the modish audience filed
out through the sacred doors of the
Minerva Club and drifted homeward
by chatting twos and threes.
mot wisely, but too WELL" amended
Marcia, as they fell into step and
turned to cross the square. IF she
would only call spade a spade once
in while, 1t would be so refreshing.
One does tire Of so many agricultural
Implements"
"But her vocabulary" began An
gelica, weakly.
Vocabulary" sniffed Marcia. Eyes,
and grammar, and construction. and
even hint OF style il you choose.
And it all goes excellently well In
formal essay, or didactic address,
such as we've just heard. But-do
you happen to know her at all init
matelyf"
NO." admitted Angelica.
Il thought not" said Marcia. well.
she's all right for club purposes; but
in private life that verbal heavy artil-
lery is awfully cumbersome. She
doesn't know 1t, poor thing, for her
mind is all keyed up to q literary
standpoint, and she really believes all
she says. Instead of seeing herself as
others see her, she calmly takes it for
granted that others see her as she
sees herself. She's widow, you know,
with a little country cousin to help
with the homework, and they keep
light house in several tiny rooms
Ia an unfashionable neighborhood.
But when she takes leave of the host
ess at some club function, she usually
remarks. in her large even tone,
that she's sorry to hurry home. but
we dine at seven, you know, You
have visions of buffers coming In with
trays, even If you do happen to know
that little Lizzie is just taking the
pork and beans out of the oven"
81 know what you mean. now that
you mention it," laughed Angelica
"Last week was talking with her,
after a committee meeting, and idly
admiring her capable way of clearing
up the desk and setting things to
rights. She tore ND a handful of pa
pers, observing pleasantly that II was
remarkable to what an extent the
elimination of the superfuous aided
one In the restoration Of an orderly
environment. That same day our CO.
lored cook had said, 1T counts heap,
when you're reddin' up. to get the
things you don't want out Of the way
I remember thinking that Betsy had
rather the juicier way of stating the
truth"
Exactly. Mrs. Blair's rooms are
always apartments; her hash is In
variably 'croquettes,' and poor Lizzie
is my maid when she's out of hear
ing. / heard her excusing herself,
when calling at Mrs. Robinson's, say
ing she really must tear herself away,
as she was giving little tea late that
afternoon, fer her cousins who were
down from the Berkshires for a few
days. Now my people came from Mrs.
Blair's town. SO know all about It.
Cousin keeps the general store at the
Corners, and his wife was fairest Of
the rural maids in the next township.
The remaining guest at the little tea
was Aunt Eliza, from Ohio, who lives
around the corner from Mrs. Blair.
So, when, heard the impressive an
nouncement. could just see them all
assembled. at 8 o'clock: Cousin Eben,
bis lean face, long neck and dropping
black 'muss-tash' set off by his low
cellulofd collar, trying to fold up his
long legs In one corner of the little
sitting room-I mean living room; his
plump little wife sitting up very
straight, uncomfortable in her new
one-piece gown and puffs, and striv-
ing to keep up with Mrs. Blair's vo-
cabulary; Aunt Eliza hustling in late,
because she'd had to peel the pota-
toes and leave them ready before she
came, to save time. Well now, all this
is eminently good and respectable,
and every one Of those people Is in
teresting If one hears the truth about
them. But somehow Mrs. Blair simp-
ly can't get at things as they are.
or tell a thing just the way 1t hap
pens"
81 suppose" unused Angelica, shat
she's what the boys call good bluff
fer"
Hardly that" objected Marcia; "a
buffer does 1t deliberately, and Mrs.
Blair doesn't. It's all real to her. Ever
read The Gilded Age? Well. think
Mrs. Blair must be a distant relative
of Colonel Sellers"