The Indianapolis times. [volume] (Indianapolis [Ind.]) 1922-1965, 1925-07-29

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| opened Jennie called: THAT you
Chickie, dear?" Then there would
be a little hurried rolling up Of hel
apron and the sewing hidden; bits
If ribbon and bits of lace sticking
out here and there. AS though
Chickie didn't, know the delightful
| things Jennie was making.
The two of them had packages
hidden everywhere, and it was
| Don't open that! Don't look there
Come, now, you'll have to wait!
And red berries in old jardinieres, in
every corner, so that all about the
place was this glad, piney breath of
the holidays.
Chickie wondered if these two were
really happy now; or if, underneath,
their hearts were bowed. Did they
keep thinking of the last year and
all those letters and the loneliness
Did they mourn for the blithe
golden thing who was gone, and for
all those dreams Of her that now
could never be?
And was the loss hard to bear?
Was the shame hard? How did Jen
ME feel when she went out in the
morning for her shopping? Did her
blood flash when neighb ors spoke,
especially if they said, And how is
Chickie now"
| Late one afternoon Chickie met
Mrs. Bigelow. She was waddlins
along. her plump. short arms filled
with packages. Roy Bigelow, hel
only son, had been in love with
Chickie during thei> high school,
days. He YVES a long-necked, I'm
calmly youth. Chickie used to tease
him and laugh in his face just to see
it grow red and shiny.
Now Mrs. Bigelow said to her
| We'll, Chickie Bryce, SO you're home
for good are you? I was just won
dering about it,"
She regarded Chickie-her chin
drawn up and wrinkled like an i'm
mense walnut. Her eyes settled or
pinned to her blue suit. You're not
looking downcast, L see. But as
was saying to Roy last night, you
done we'll to come home, You might
| just as well take your punishment
not that I'd ever be one to throw
stones. But curdled milk is curdled
that it's whole.
You do well to admit it, Chickie
And as Roy said to me, who knows
but what some man may be willing
to overlook it-seems they amt sc
particular nowadays"
She dropped two Of her numerous
bundles. Chickie stopped and picked
them up. Setting them on top Of
the others, she looked directly into
Mrs. Bigelow's wide, steamy face
Did Roy say that, Mrs. Bigelow'
That's real big in him. But will
you tell Roy for me, please, that nc
man shall ever have chance tc
overlook me and my faultsr'
Ch1ckie ran up the steps, shaking
That night she said to Jennie
Mother, do the neighbors talk much
to you? Do they make you very un
nappy?"
Jennie fair skin turned family
pink, there came a light into
her eyes She answered with pa
thetic mality. Your mother is
proud 0 you, Chickie dear"
So they do-do they? Some day
they'll have cause to talk! You bel
they shallr'
She dreamed Of this childish re-
venge. Oh-she would do some
magnificent and splendid thing-ram
her nobility down their threats
tower above them like a new, fam
ing Joan.
The day their white caps were
given she felt this mighty stir OF
pride like an inspiration. They
stood in the pretty garden court
just outside the nurses home-the
sixteen girls whose probation was
finished.
The superintendent spoke simply
Let the cap be your symbol. You
nave accepted the ideal Of service
Keep it glowing before you that its
light may touch with beauty the
lowliest tasks.
1--WE can all do the heroic anc
snowy things. They take no toll or
our courage. But only the biggest
finest spirits can lend a glory to
the scrubbing of a bed, the washing
of cup.
Here in this daily, monotonous
service is our test-test Of the val
liant and the strong. May you meet
it WELL remembering that the mean
est duty abs dignity, since it is
done to soothe another's pain.
And, remembering, too, that the
richness of your life is measured
not by what you acquire, but by
what you experience; moi by what
you can gather to yourself, but by
what you can lavish on another"
A talk like that touched Chickie
to the heart. Yes-she had learned
all that-glad now that Life would
let her serve. When she put on the
white cap her thoughts brooded-
how -puzzling ones very own soul
could be. And a year ago did she
dream that she would be walking
through these corridors, serene
again; that she would be wearing
this uniform; that she would even
feel herself absolved-well, some