Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1924-02-17
By Ben Ames Williams.

as swift az her anger had been; ten
derness swept her. She pressed
| against him. where he sat beside the
table, and with her thin arm drew
his head against her fleshless, bosom.
lr'You're not either. papa". she cried
.passionately. You're always So pa :.
tient With me. But do wish you'd
I talk to Johnny Direct"
He reached up to touch her. cheek
caressingly. That's all right, honey"
he said. e'.-'r ..-'' $500,
But you. will talk to johnny"
The man nodded. at last. "All
right. Lucy. Yes. TIL talk TO HIM"
v y -
l. JOHNNY DREE found a little time.
oven during the busy weeks of
the apple picking. TO go with Moore
through his, orchard, and to- search
out tho trees scattered along rho
stone walls. lie began the work OF
pruning and trimming them, showed
Moore, and showed Lucy how 10 con-
tinue 1t. Eade Moore plow under the
thick sod around the .bnse Of each
tree. Nothing like. grass TO steal
the water an apple tree needs" lie
explained. Grass Is worse than
weeds" Before the snow came much
had been done. Moore said once.
dittidently: So.
'1'd like to hire you to ,help me
along with this. Dree!' 49,
But Johnny shook his head "You
don't want to hire MISUNDERSTANDING
have to-: he said. ~ Just como, up
when I'm not busy at$homs You .ean
help me with haying iaiid.4hthg some
time" 81. j. -. =.
The seasons MARCHED 'm9not ono usiy
on. The crisp sunshine, Of fall days,
with frost tingling an. the aIr. gave
way to bleaker weather afid then to
the full riEors OF harsh. cold, when
snow lag thick across tile hills, bla,ni-
keting everything. -. - e
The routine Of little tasks laid IT.
self upon, Moore. and upon his wife.
Even Lucia. in" greater and, greater
degree, submitted to it. But revolt
was always Very near the surface in
the girl. One day she met Johnny
Dree upon the road, and he,asked in
a friendly way, well. you getting TO
like 1t here:" - -: -. -.
She was in i'll humor that; morning,
and she famed at him; "oh, late
1t! hate It," she cried. II wish to
God I'd never seen this damned hole.
But papa's got US into 1t, and we
can't get out, and there's nothing to
do blu: work and work. Sometimes
wish I were dead" - ---
Ia n
fore. and he looked at her in. some
establishment. She was.' he thought,
SO small and SO serenely sweet to
look upon that there was something
incongruous. in her profanity. But
he did not speak OF his thought at
that time: said merely: ..
Why, that's too bad. thought
you were getting to like tssmaybe."
And so passed on, leaving her Curl
cusly chastened by his very mildness.
|. There was an interminable same
ness In the days. To rise early, to do
the morning chores. and cook. and
eat, and wash dishes, and dust, and
cook, and eat. and wash dishes, and
sew. and cook, and eat, and wash
dishes. and read the paper, and go
fumingly to bed. This was Lucia's
bitter life. =
But because 1t is impossible to hold
indignation always at it's highest
pitch, there were hours when she for
got to be unhappy; there were hours
when She found something like pleas
ure In this ordered simplicity of life.
Now and then Johnny came in OF an
evening. and sat In the dining room
with them. all and talked With her
father about apple trees. and Lucia
liked, at first. to- practice. her small
caJoleries upon him. He quickly be-
gan to call her Lucia, then Lucy as,
her father and mother did, She pre-