Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1926-07-25
Fugitive From Finley sAlley
By Agnes Sigh 7urnbuH
in the Balance

II II z was tramp7-ragged. dirty,
unkempt, with the helf-
suspicious, half-surly man
Il ner that comes from con-
tinued painful contacts with
life. His brown eyes were all that
gave the lie to his general disrepu-
table appearance, and most people did
not trouble to look at them until
they had given him quick kick or
cuff. Then it was too late, for the
shaggy curtain of his brows was
drawn. and the snarl he had been
forced to cultivate in self-def@1se
VS. revealing his white teeth in
stead.
Nobody but a stray child here and
there had ever discovered those Inn
pid brown pools of absolute longing
which were in his eyes. For in the
strange cosmic scheme of things he
had been perfectly made, this home
less, friendleSs tramp, for one end and
one only--to love, to worship, to serve
loyalty master.
And here among the garbage pals
and ash cans of Finley's alley he
skunk, furtive, watchful, ready TO
snarl and run at a danger signal,
ready to fight for a bite of moldy
bread or other questionable scraps
anything that would prolong his life
and thereby prolong the quest which
the speck of sentient matter within
his tattered, tired little body never
gave up. Somewhere,-vaguely,
dumbly he sensed it--somewhere his
god must be waiting, and he must
seek to find him.
On this June morning he Scudded
At last out of Ffnley's alley, evaded
n hurting stone by a hairs breadth,
and turned into a road that led out
of the city. He trotted alertly along
until the weeds appeared at the edge
of the macadam, and autos became
less plentiful; then he ran close to
the fences. nose shifting, eyes peering.
Even though he had to return to the
Finley's alley region at night for
bite to eat, he would wander now in
sweet-smelling grasses. where small,
soft, quick bodies were always dart
ing here and there
So ran the little tramp dog, his
four bruised paws thudding softly,
that tiny sentient spark within him
always pressing on yearningly, but
no part of him suspecting that on
this golden June day there lay wait
ing for him just around the corner
Death and Fear and Fright and Free
dom and JOY Supreme, and the End
of the Quest.
"A T that moment, in one of the neat
suburban residences which had
been advertised as Dutch Colonial,
six rooms, tiled bath, fireplace, ga
rage, cash deposit, balance as rent"
there was approaching a crisis. Dan
Hastings knew it as he slowly
dressed for the day He wondered
If Helene realized it, too. She had
been early astir, and without words,
except that she must go to the city
that morning to buy one or two last
things, had hurried down to get
breakfast.
The bedroom was large, but it
seemed to Dan TO be choked with
garments. A trunk, half filed, stood
near the door; the trays, already
packed, lay on either side. On every
chair were dresses, skirts, hats, shoes.
The whole house, indeed. had had
for q, week the dusty, disordered look
which house acquires when left en-
tirely TO care for itself. There had
been shopping and sewing, and more
shopping and sewing; there had been
dinners hastily prepared and care
lessly cleared away; there had been
quick words and still mere deadly
SN~NAa|N9'
was going to Maine.
1t was on a day in April that the
letter had come from Helene's aunt
Marcia. Dan had come home early
to work in the garden, of which he
was Unfortunately fond. A home of
their own! a garden! No boarding
house stuff that Summer Fresh
peas and beans and lettuce of his
own raising! And sweet peas and
nasturtiums for Helene to gather for
the house! He had begun to plan for
the garden in January, to Helene's
great amusement He had pored over
catalogues and sketched his careful
diagrams long before it was time to
turn over the first spadeful Of earth.
He had come home jubilantly this
evening with six more packages of
seed and a rambler rosebush for the
porch, to find Helen waiting for him,
radiant His heart leaped as it al
ways did at her bright beauty. Hair
like golden mist; eyes like the skyi
"Danr' she had cried, without
waiting to look at the rosebush.