Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-01-07
The Beginning Of Things.

The Beginning OF Things.
r T was early Spring in Washington
The buds were beginning to leap
out like daring green dancers or
/ the brown branches of the trees
and birds sang very early In the
morning. Open carriages with colored
coachmen sitting very stiff and
straight on their boxes rolled down
through the wide streets. Beautiful
and famous ladies went shopping for
Spring frocks in the sleepy stores.
A lazy and a lovely season and a
lazy and lovely old town. Little
! wagons filled with blossoms on the
| corners. organ grinders with their
tinny tunes. soft breezes like tender
! fingers. and over the Potomac a blue
exquisite haze.
There were other signs of Spring
signs peculiarly familiar to Washing
ton. Houses were being closed for
the season. Congressman were re
turning like blown dust to the four
corners of the United States. whence
they had come, and the wealthy PEG
pie who made the social whirl of
Washington interesting during the
height of the season were leaving for
Summer homes. Here and there the
big stately houses already presented
to the passers-by blank and curtained
windows and barred and boarded
doors.
One of the houses undergoing this
transformation was the Darien place
on Sixteenth street. The house OF
Darien was forbidding. Behind the
Darien family lay the long shadow of
years of tradition and custom. AL
ways, in high places there had been q
Darien since the memory of man. The
present incumbent was the friend of
Presidents, the honored guest Of en-
bassies. He and his wife and little
son spent small part Of each year
In Washington, and many people con.
sidered that when they migrated the
really smart social season in Wash.
ington was ended.
To be invited to a function at the
Dariens was to be touched with a
miraculous wand. No social upstart
ever set foot between the sacred stone
door-posts. Mrs. Darien's social judg.
ment was sure and cruel. She made
and unmade people with q nod. lifted
eyebrow, smile.
Little Jack Darien was raised like
foreign princeling. Nurses and
tutors and governesses surrounded
him in his every moment. When he
slept 1t was under the watchful eyes
Of highly paid trained nurse. When
he played it was always under the
supervision Of at least one maid and
sometimes a tutor as well. The best
that the world had to offer was none
too good for the heir of the house of
Darien.
He saw the world, q narrow little
world, from behind the great iron
gates that Enclosed the small garden
around the massive house or from the
back of horse as he rode in the
early mornings.
Never once had he been allowed on
the streets alone. Never once had the
big iron gates been left open so that
his fancy might wander through.
On this Spring morning, however,
somewhere in the smoothly running
machinery of the great household
there had been a hitch. An hour
after breakfast Jack found himself
without nurse, tutor or governess to
direct his steps or his thoughts. He
could hear the maids, very family,
downstairs, as they talked above the
clatter of dishes and the swish of
brooms. Upstairs he could hear his
mother talking to her secretary. Free!
Straight as a bee for a flower he made
for the pale green loneliness Of the
garden
And marvel of all marvels; For the
first time in his memory the great
gates were not locked, In very fact
one of them stood slightly ajar!
But this was not the end of miracles.
Outside the iron grilling stood a small
girl. peering in at him! Little girls
were not unknown in his life. He
met them at dancing lessons, but they
were all very correct little girls. They
curtsied when he bowed and asked
them for a dance, They wore their
hair in long curls and wore pretty
starchy dresses with great bows of
ribbon for sashes.
This little girl was different. Her
hair was short and rough and very,
very black, and she wore q funny
faded, tight little dress, spotted and
limp. She looked queer, he decided.
Almost like a boy, with that rough
hair. And yet she was pretty. Her
hair was pretty, too. The little
Spring breezes got into it and blew
it about her face. Once, as she stared.
a great strand of it blew into her
mouth. Jack laughed aloud.
What funny little girl! Her eyes
looked at him GROSSLY. Why should
she be cross at him? How big and
black her eyes were! Presently she
put out two small brown hands, like
paws, on the grill and pulled herself
closer, staring at him all the while.
Within him, some place. there came
a queer stirring. He didn't know
what it was, but he was suddenly very
tired of the tight tiny garden, Of the
big gates, and Of the funny little
world he could see through them! He
envied the little girl outside staring
at him.
He would have liked to stand on
the step and stare back at her for a
long time. There was so much about
her that was queer and interesting.
But he knew that 1t wouldn't be long
before his absence would be discov-
cred, and the unlocked gates as well.
Then everything would be over! There
came upon him little sense of panic,
of fright!
Walking very gravely. he descended
to the little girl. -
Now, on a dirty, narrow, dingy side
street, where people never closed up
their houses for the Summer and
where slatternly and dusky maidens
hung over the area-railings gossiping
lived the Belts family. There were