Evening star., 1926-04-25

| Inc OLnoTS JOlHeu HeI III tle HoS
pitable invitation. but Miss Eugenia
refused. And the mental manicure
was over for the day.
4 MAN, nice and plain and grayish.
came into an office to bring a
note to a woman he did not know.
When he had explained his mission
and was going, the woman asked, with
pardonable interest:
Did the jelly stain your shoes?"
| The man halted in bewilderment
! The woman prompted:
I'm the street car that time
| BeWilderment gave way to a smile
| that was as near to being real sun
, beam as humanity has yet been able
to accomplish. and ne reached out a
hand in fraternal greeting.
why er why - sure! Several
| years ago, Well, we'll. well. And how
do you come to know about it?'
"Oh. l was anchored to the next
strap and recognized you"
well, you sure have a good mem.
ory for faces" And he had to shake
hands again. After that there was a
little bubble of reminiscence, and
when he went away the sunbeam was
still on view. And the woman. with
the days work off her mind. kept on
remembering, about like this:
Jelly on the table is a story too old
to talk about. This was a new one
about jelly on russet shoes. It seemed
to be excellent Jelly, and there was no
doubt whatever as to the fineness of
the shoes. Everything was strictly
first class.
The man who wore the shoes stood
on a car platform-crowded inside
when the jelly got on. To be severely
sensible, two women boarded the car,
each carrying a bulgy something
| wrapped in paper napkins. and one of
them carrying in addition a handle
less bowl-the jelly. you understand.
The man moved aside to give the
women a chance to wedge inside. The
one ahead was lucky enough to
anchor herself against a Gibraltarish
gentleman who didn't mind. But the
other one-oh, the poor woman
stumbled, and her bowl fell. smash.
on the russet shoes-oh, the poor.
poor man!
While he was irving to stamp his
feet free Of the wobbly mess. so as not
TO splash passengers next-a literal
1am-the man kept assuring the
woman that it didn't matter-Lord
love him for the fib.-and the woman
who was plastered comfortably against
her human rock passed out a pink
lowered paper napkin to him with a
social matter of CourSeneSs which
would have been a credit to Mrs.
Lecks that time in the Pacific Ocean.
Remember Mrs. Lecks?
The victim did the best he could by
the napkin, and when that was used
hn cfr hor
| passenger came across with a page of
The Evening Star.
A reason goes with everything II
YOU take the trouble to rummage for
it. though in this case the man didn't
have to hunt. The woman sobbed out
the cause of the disaster as freely as
she had bestowed it.
She and her friend had been to a
silver tea, and as there were few In
attendance and a lot of refreshments
were left over, they thought they
would help out by taking home some
cake and jelly. The cake was in the
napkins. 1t didn't seem necessary to
I locate the jelly.
The man, generously touched by the
grief and modification of the woman,
insisted all over that it didn't matter
| in the least, while a good-natured soul
cetSSu III d lIIdl dCCIueIllS
will happen. and that was all the
woman at the desk could recall, ex-
| cept that she really did want to know
! If jelly stains russet shoes-and here
| the one who could have told her had
gone away without saying.
X y X X
| A flock of badge labeled tourists
swarmed into a street car. An
| old farmer-man, in command of the
| party, kept guard next to the con
ductor. so that he could remind him
every two seconds that they wanted
| to light at Union Station.
The conductor smiled boyish under
standings, and when the time came
stopped in obedience to orders. Where.
| upon the old farmer-man, in the
| voice of one accustomed to calling
across the open, shouted out:
Come along, honey; it's time to
| light"
Every tourist-woman rose to the en-
! dearment, but
When the swarm was on the flag
| ging and assorted into pairs, male
and female, each, it was made appar
ent that the withery little STOPPING
| one in bonnet instead of hat was
officially entitled to the call.
BY right of language, Of course
''honey" belongs entirely to bees and
to the beloved brown nanny now in
the land Of Used-to-Be, but
AS the oldish, hard-working couple
December turned human. locked arms
and crossed over to tha entrance to
the station, the word somehow seemed
to suit.
|
No Rnr>>s AhoNf r.