Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1925-05-17

sT'm getting onto her. She's one
mans town where you can't set down
and talk with the neighbors or any
how Just set and watch the neighbors
pass. In the first place, there's no
regular place for you to set-or II
there Is, / amt been able to find 1t
and Lord knows I've hunted high and
low and down the middle. And In
the second place, there amt any
Ileighbors-they'r just all people.
That's all. people,
This was a sample day out of Mr..
Reuben Oldham's life in the great
city where there is always so much
to do. He would get up early, around
6o'clock Summer or Winter, 1t made
no difference. Getting up early was
Tecumseh Center habit which even
New York couldn't cure him of. The
cook and general houseworker-the
Tates' two-in-one - would still De
asleep, and Oscar, his son-tn-law,
didn't roll out of bed until on week
days and not until nearly noon on
Sundays: Gussie took her breakfast In
bed somewhere between and 10.
He put on his dressing gown and
his slippers and went out to the empty
Kitchen and lit the gas range. He
was handy at cooking. He cooked his
breakfast and ate it on the zinc
srolonged both operations, the cooking
and the eating. and he took his time
about washing up afterward, and
after that he read the morning paper
all the way through. not because every
thing in the paper interested, but be-
cause he was through and also be-
cause he had such a long day ahead
of him. Then he went back to his
room and shaved himself very pains
eel nd
was fine he would be out Of the apart
rnent before any one of the other three
occupants was astir.
f! He was back from his morning walk
by II, usually, and generally he
went to his room and stayed until
lunch time because, what with the
girl tidying up the living room and
the dining room, there was a good
deal of dust and confusion. After
lunch-a hurried, caught-up kind of
meal which he ate alone If Gussie had
gone out, or with her If she had no
midday engagement-he took a nap
and then he had another walk and
came back and read the evening
paper. But if Gussie had COM
pany in for cards or tea he read
1t in his room. At there was dinner
and sometimes after dinner he went
to the movies with Gussie and
Oscar, provided they had no other
plans. Other evenings at about half
past nine he would turn in. He was
not much of hand for reading books;
the newspapers and an occasional
magazine satisfied his literary crav-
irgS.
~ Evenings when there was card
game on he withdrew even earlier
than $50. The jam about the poker
table and the chatter and cigarette
smoke and the squealing Of the women
and all seemed to sort of choke up
the place. So he would slip away to
his room, which was small without
being what you would call coy.
Anyhow. he didn't seem to have much
in common with these New York
folks. Mentally he included Oscar
and Gussie when he thought Of the
group collectively as New York folks.
For they were quite seasoned New
Workers; and he didn't seem to have
very much in common with them,
either. even though one of them was
hts daughter. 1t wasn't that they
were uncivil to him or consciously
selfish, either. They put themselves
out sometimes on his account. He
could feel it. The strain on them
both when they tried to entertain him
was almost a visible thing. The
trouble was that the things which
seemed to interest them didn't interest
him SO very much. 1t was as though
they spoke a different language of a
different world.
a So, as / was saying, often when
there was no company in. and nearly
always when there was. he would ex-
cuse himself early well, folks" he
would say, Il feel a mite drowsy.
Had two good long constitutionals to-
day and sat quite a spell over here
in that little park by tn river-the
cir must've made me sleepy. Guess
III be turning in. Well, good night.
folks. Ten minutes from now I'll be
snoring my head off,
,,it But he didn't always keep his word
Sometimes he would sit in his room
for an hour or two hours before he
went to bed-not reading, not doing
anything particularly, but just sitting
there and figuring things out and
watching for the times when that re-
current little shivering sensation made
light objects on his bureau culver and
the pictures on the wall pendulate a
little bit.
.hThat would be an average day for
him. There is no denying il. thew
were long days. days that had way
of dragging. Yet these days. which
passed so slowly. made up years
which somehow went by swiftly. They
say, Tough, that this is not a rare
FEELING among those who have passed
the peaks of their lives-the years
gallop by pretty fast then.
8 About those walks he took:
They weren't what you would call
satisfying. They stretched the legs
hut after you reach a certain age the
legs don't appear to require a great
deal of stretching-and they did keen
2 fellow out in the open air. But be
ing a seagull keeps you out in the
open air, too, and who in thunder
wants to be a seagull?
AtThere was so much noise, SO much
crowding on the avenues nearer the
river, so much of a sort of cold, stand
on1sh, leave-me-alone-and-I -leave-you.
alone air about the avenues nearer the
park. If fellow stopped on the side
walk to look at a pile of fruit on a
stand, say, or to look at things in a
show window, people bumped into
MIN. and the boss of the store seemed
TO resent your standing there too LONG
or else he came out and tried to get
you to step inside so he could sell you
something. 1t depended on whether
his shop was one of the tony ones over
on Park or one of the cheaper ones on
Second or Third. Anyway, there
wasn't whole lot Of fun in looking
into windows, without you had some
body along to be sort of sociable with,
you know, and argue with you whether
the things you were looking at were
q bargain or not. He often remarked
as much to himself.
y At first. when he didn't know the
New York way of doing things, he
had tried the plan of speaking to peo-
pie who ranged up alongside and
looked where he was looking. They
would do that all right-they'd look.
But If you started in to pass the time
OF day with one of them, chances were
he'd act suspicious and stare at You