The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1925-05-01


not sharply inquisitive. whats. the
matter with her hands, Dirk?''
He pondered a moment, his brows
knitted. At last, slowly, well, don't
know. They're brown, and awfully
, thin and sort of-grabby. l mean it
makes me nervous to watch them.
And when the rest of her is cool
they're hot when you touch them
He looked at his mothers hands
that were busy with some. sewing. The
stuff on which she was working was a
bit of satin ribbon; part Of a hood
intended to grace the head of Geertje
Pool Wander Slides second baby. She
had difficulty in keeping her. rough
fingers from catching on the soft sur.
face Of the satin. Manual work, wa
ter. sun, and wind had tanned those
hands, hardened them, enlarged the
knuckles, spread them, roughened
them. Yet how sure they were, and
strong, and cool and reliable-and ten
der Suddenly, looking at them, Dirk
said, "Now your hands. 1 love your
hands. Mother"
She put down her work hastily, yet
quietly, so that the sudden rush of
happy grateful tears in her eyes
should not sully the pink satin ribbon.
She was flushed, like girl. "Do you,
Sobig?" she said. a.7 -
After moiAent she took. up her
sewing again. Her face looked young,
eager, fresh, like the face of the girl
who had found cabbages so beautiful
that night when she bounced along
the rutty Halsted road with Klaas
Pool, many years ago. 1t came into
her face, that look, when she was
happy, exhilarated, excited. That
was why those who loved her and
brought that look into her face
thought her beautiful, while those
who did not love her never saw tn,
look and consequently considered her
a plain woman.
There was another silence between
the two. Then: Mother. what would
you think of my going east next fall.
to take course in architecture"
would you like that. Dirk?''
Eyes. / think so-yes"
"Then I'd like 1t better than any
thing in the world. lit makes me
happy just to think of it," ~
at would-cost an awful lot"
"I'll manage. I'll manage. -. 4
What made you decide ON architee-
ture?"
Il don't know, exactly. The new
buildings Mt the university-Gothic
you know--are such a contrast to the
old. Then Paula and were talking
the other day. She hates their house
on Prairie-terrible old lumpy gray
stone pile, with the black of the f.hC.
trains all over it. She wants her far
Their TO build north--an italian villa or
French chateau, Something .@af thai,
sort. So manyof her friends are NOV
ing to, the North shore, away FROM
these hideous South-side and North
side Chicago houses with their stoops
and their bay windows. and their ter
rible turrets. Ugh!''
"Well, now, do you KNOW" Selma
demonstrated mildly, Il like 'em. j
suppose I'm wrong, but to me they
seem sort of natural and solid and
unpretentious, like the clothes that old
August Hempel wears, so squarecqt
and baggy. Those houses look digni-
fed to me, and fitting. They may be
ugly-pfobably are-but, anyway.
they're not ridiculous. They have a
certain rugged grandeur. They're Chi
cago. Those French and Italian GIN
cracky things they-they're iricongru-
GUS. It's as If Abraham Lincoln were
TO appear suddenly In pink satin knee
breeches and buckled shoes, and lace
ruffles at his wrists
Dirk could laugh at that picture
But he protested, too. "But there's
no native architecture, so what's to
be done! You wouldn't call those
smoke-blackened old stone and brick
piles with their iron fences and their
Conservatives and cupolas and ginger
bread exactly native, would you?'
ITO RE CONTINIIED1