Washington telegraph., 1927-07-08


served the first bricklayer,
looking through the open easement
into the professors study.
HE needs a keeper, that's all, y
returned the second bricklayer. look
ing over his shoulder.
There was a sound of footballs on
the Tagged walk of the garden and
the two bricklayers Withdrew their
heads as large form in blue ging-
ham appeared before the open
French windows of the study. The
person in the blue gingham stepped
through the windows with a pro-
prietary air.
Good mOrnin pcrfissor," she ad-
dressed brush-likc substance which
protruded above desk piled high
with books. The brush waved
slightly, two books disappeared
from the top of the center stack, and
n pair OF troubled gray eyes behind
shell-rmmed glasses looked through
the opening.
"Ah, Molly" an abstracted voice
floated up over the books, Good
afternoon" The brush waved vio-
lcntly and then disappeared from
sight altogether.
"I'll be after the washing this
mornin', perfissor," said Molly ten
talivcly. There was an inarticulate
sound from behinu the desk and, ac-
ccpting this as notice to proceed,
Molly lifted pile of books from a
table and took from under them a
crumpled shirt. In magazine rack
full of papers she fishcd about for
several seconds at last to bring forth
a pair of gray silk socks, a pair of
carriers hanging from them. Other
odd corners and unexpected places
gave up handkerchiefs and various
articles of clothing until there was
a fair sized heap on the floor. Then
she left the room, returning shortly
two sheets and some smaller articles
which she spread upon the floor,
sheets first, dumping the other
things upon them. This heap she
surveyed carefully for a few mo-
ments, after which she arose with
a worried look and cast about the
room cautiously. Something was
missing
'Perfissor," she said, invading the
sacred precincts of the spot behind
the desk, "Fve looked all over and,
5 faith, cant find the pyjammics."
''What now, Molly? AN, pajainas,
r YOU say? Ah-yes-" the professor
! looked down in mild surprise at his
| cambric covered body, "yes, have
not yet removed them"
e Holy Fatherw muliered Molly
= and even as she spoke the profess
sor's head again bent over his book.
, "Fm waitin', perfissor," she sug-
| gesied at length.
There was no reply but presently
, the mop of hair came up with a jerk,
: his gray eyes looked fiercely into
: Molly's.
: "Gumplowicz!" he snorted, Rot!
, Ostentatiously parading his archaic
[ concepts as modern Syllogisms.
= Polybius propagated this method of
, ratiocination over 20OO years ago"
= "Yiss, sor, it must be so sor," said
Molly, "but | must have the pyjam-
| mics"
7 Cycles! Rot. Rot, | say
: "The poor darlint," multered
! Molly, "Pll see if he has an extray
l pair and if he had it amt the likes
of me that'll bother i'm again"
As Molly was lifting the bundle of
clothes from the floor a few min
utes later the professor arose and
looked over the stack of books.
Molly" he said, "there is an i'm
portant matter on which | wish to
speak to you. II has slipped my mind
Just now but | fancy | shall soon
think of it and | shall consider it a
favor on your part if you will wait
,, a few moments or until the ="
\ face appeared at the easement
, and as quickly disappeared when l.
met the sloiid gaze of Molly.
Didn't ! tell yuh he need some II
10 look afler'm?" a voice floaled IN
"Ah." smiled the professor. ~
have it. Molly, my man, Deems. has
left me. Left me with scarce word
of warning. A wretched fellow
Deems. As a result | have had no
food since Yesterday" he passed his
palm gently across his stomach. land
,, | have decided to dispense with the
services of men and get trustwor-
thy female. Can you help me find
such person."
Molly thought for moment.
"lisS, Sor, | know of the very one.
An if she amt already engaged I'll
5 send her right out to ye, sor."
= Thank you, Molly" and the pro-
fessor sat down to his book again,
| knew you could be of help. Send
, her out by all means"
Miss Stone said the editor. II
want you TO go out and interview
| this DIR. Bradlcc. And want a
story too-nonc of this early strug-
gle stuff-the Lord knows he's never
had any. | want corking good
Story-you know what | mcan-no
highbrow tale. want something
} for the man in the street TO read.
Here's a nanpr fhaf'll oiva ,,o,, comm