Evening star., 1926-04-18

What am | gong TO 90. HOW am
I going to get her the things she
ought to have? Food, and clothes
and education don't sound so much,
but you've got to have some money to
get them. ana if my alimony's cut off,
what can ! do"
do what | do--work."
II do work. Don't | make all her
clothes and mine? Don't | address
envelopes and do embroidery jobs? l
could get IA job in a store, / suppose,
but how can | leave her running the
streets? She's too young and too
pretty. You and | know what can
wait for girls, and I've got to keep
my girl safe. That's my job, Sally.
But how am I going to do it right?"
The gayly turbaned heal went down.
on the arm OF the rickety chair. How
can l do it? How am l going to keep
her on nothing?"
"Oh. brace up, Peggy. III bet you
didn't eat any. lunch. Go on up
stairs, and wash your face, and get
Blossom, and come down here for your
dinner. / can't lend You any money
this week. That man on the third
floor hasn't paid me. / shouldn't have
taken him in, but he looked as If he'd
go to the lake if didn't. But | have
lamb stew, and Blossoms can go out
for pie, and We'll have a party of
our own. Go on, now, that's good
girl
She lifted Peggy from the chair and
led her to the door. For a moment
the thin body lay Imply against her.
and clutching arms circled her neck.
Then, as if braced by contact with Il
courage older than her own. Peggy
Loomis started for the stairway.
* * * x
HALFWAY up the stairs she halted,
u looking through the spaces he
tween the worn pilasterS of the BAN
lister at the world she had uncon-
sciously chosen in leaving Kennedy
Loomis. A high-c -ceilinged. dismal
room it was, made more barren by it's
commonplace furnishings: but, curled
up in a chair by the window. striving
TO read in the dusk, sat a girl in red
and white gingham, her brown curls
sweeping over her book, one shabbily
Shod foot not quite reaching the
faded carpet. Looking upon her,
Peggy Loomis's eyes dimmed With
tears, but she ended the ascent with
Il greeting she tried to make cheerful.
"Lo, Blossomkin," she cried. and
hugged to her breast the ginghamed
whirlwind which rushed upon her.
"Oh, leave a little bit of me-" she
pl0du6u. j HAT 5 MY OIfiN tldl, DOHeS.
Il don't care, We'll get another" the
child declared. I'm so glad you've
come. l was so lonesome for you I
thought I'd cry"
But I didn't. I read. l borrowed
a book from Miss Myers. It's lovely
book, mother, all about a girl who
lives on Fifth avenue, New York. and
who has the most beautiful clothes.
Wait till I show you her picture"
Peggy sighed in the wistfulness of
a desire to give to her own child the
emoluments of wealth.
''Youu have lovely clothes some
day" she promised her.
"A cream-colored lace?" dreamed
her mothers daughter. "And a red
silk. and a coat with fur collar?"
'All of those" said Peggy Loomis.
Her eyes wandered to the curtained
alcove where hung the few clothes
the girl possessed. faded cottons from
her Summer sewing, and shoddy relics
of last Winters stock. "And maybe
more than that" she amended.
"A dark green velvet?'
Perhaps. Now run down to Aunt
Sally, honey. She wants you to go
TO the store for her. We're going
to have dinner in her room"
"I'd rather eat here alone with you,
mother"
II promised Aunt Sally
"All right. But you won't promise
her for tomorrow night, will you?
Oh, please don't. mother. It's so much
more fun just being with you"
She snuggled close to Peggy, and
her mother held her tightly in realiza-
tion Of the compensating intensity Of
their love.
But, mother, can't we go to the
movies tonight?' Blossom pleaded.
There's a grand picture over at. the
Parkway. Miss Myers saw it down
town, and she says we'd love it. We
could take Aunt Sally" she conceded,
seeing the cloud on Peggy's face.
I'm sorry, Blossom, but we can't
go. / haven't the money"
oh The old, sad concession to
understanding of a too-frequent stu
alton hurt her mother more than pro-