Evening star., 1925-06-15

<lN IEVER AGAIN" thought
Sally Byrd Littlepage. as
VI she opened her eyes.
Never again
She awoke with the feel
ing that something delightful was
about to happen, just as she used to
awake on Christmas mornings in her
childhood. Only her Christmas morn
ings were always disappointing. Ihey
had burst like bubbles when she
touched them, while this dreamllke
expectancy was as real as Stanley.
The name sang in her mind, as II
thrush were imprisoned there ana
could not get out And not only the
thrush but the sunshine. the fragrant
wind and the blue sky filled with little
clouds like momoSa bloSSomS-all
these made fairy ring In Nher
thoughts where there was only dull
graynesS a few weeks ago.
Only three weeks ago what dreary
round life had been, Only three
weeks ago she had gone plodding
through her days. unaware that Stan
lew was in the world waiting for her.
Awakening in the morning with moth
ing to expect, falling asleep at night
with nothing to dream about. Gong
out after breakfast to teach in the
kindergarten of the public school,
coming back after lunch to wait on
Grandfather or Grandmother Little
page. Breakfast. dinner, bed, that
was all. Grandfather'S worry about
money; grandmother's worry about
meals: Aunt Louisa's worry about
neuralgia: Aunt Matilda's worry about
salvation. Just that and nothing else
in her days. DrabneSS everywhere
that she looked. DrabnesS and pow
erty and the irksome monotony of
things that did not matter And then.
in the midst of the graynesS, sunshine
had flooded the world. She had met
Stanley one day, by the strangeSt
chance, in the library where she had
gone to return a book. They had both
had to wait for the librarian, and while
they were waiting they had begun to
talk about Shakespeare plays. After
ward she had discovered that he was
related to Gerty Cunningham, who
taught in the kindergarten with her,
and that he wrote plays which were
so fine that she had never seen them;
but it was really Shakespeare who in
troduced them. From beginning to
end it had all been miraculous. 1t
was one of those accidents which ap-
pear, when you look back on them In
tender retrospect. to have occurred
through come divine intervention in
the chaos of circumstances. Nothing,
she felt. except Il beneficent Provi-
dence could have created so perfect an
event out of the vast commonplace of
existence.
Though she was only 10. it seemed
to be that she had lived through
lifetime of drudgery before Stanley
came. Even as child she had been
cramped and isolated by poverty, as
If poverty were contagious disease.
They had never let her play with the
other children in the streets. they had
always kept her sewing with her
elderly aunts in the faded drawing
room. or walking back and forth to
the park with Grandfather Littlepage.
In the solitude of the once fashion
able and now fallen street in which
they lived there were no neighbors of
their own class for them to mingle
with, and mingling with the common
children" was Sternly forbidden by
Sally Byrd's grandparents.
Well. It was all over now. In d few
minutes she would slip out of bed and
bathe in water that sparkled like hap
piness: she would brush her dark red
hair and wind it in wreath of plaits
round her head; she would touch her
glowing cheeks with the powder she
had bought yesterday; she would put
on her green crepe dress and the lock-
ct with her mothers miniature; and
she would go down TO breakfast with
the joy in her heart shining through
her gray-green eyes which Stanley
once said were the color of April mist.
"Why did you put on your Sunday
dress?" Aunt Matilda would ask; and,
made wise by love, she would lie
happily: "Oh, it's May day, you
know There's to be a celebration in
the kindergarten Then, when break
fast was over she would run out to
meet Stanley in the park, and they
would go away to be married. After
that her thoughts dissolved in a rosy
glow of expectancy. She thought of
marriage as her grandfather thought
of great wealth or her Aunt Matilda
thought of heaven-aS a passive and
permanent condition of bliss.
In the dining room, which looked
dark and smelt depressingly. grand
father, withered tree of an old man,
was facing grandmother, withered
bush of an old woman. The only diff
ference between them was that grand