New Britain herald., 1927-03-01

hall. and opened that package ! T won't do nc harm to see wha ! the Man Back Home has sent you even Of you are going to marry ! that blatherskite movie director III on the hill.'
 1 Robbie set down her tea cup 'Mr. A1acCloud is anything but { blatherskite, Mrs. Mangan," sh. said. She tried to say it with dig rity, but her voice sounded only listlcss.
 Mrs. Mangan looked sharply al her for q minute more, then divc( into the pantry off the kitchen, ant came back with a plate of colo veal pie and some douchnuts.
 She had the kindcst of kinG hearts-thc poor creature--and her only way Of showing her sympathy and her understanding was by of fering comfort in the way of food or an extra blanket or Q nosegay of flowers from her back yard.
 You just tuck that veal pic away inside of you" she said briskly. And no fooling. Moth ing makes body feel mean and out-of-sor's like being half-starved. ' "llaybe that's what's the matter win me-" Robbie set down her tea cup, and helped herself gener- ously to the cold veal pie.
 ft was the old-fashioned kind. with plenty of creamy gravy and bits Of potato and carrot in it. that Aunt Gertrude used 10 make in the old kitchen on Locust street. And just 10 taste it took Robbie back to those long-ago days.
 She never had thought herself happy then. Put she knew now, looking hack at that time, that she lad been happy really, with Andy dropping in at the most outlandish times of the day or night 10 take her for a drive or 10 bring her a rcw magazine or box of peanut brittle from the Sugar Bowl" on the corner, With the httle pupils at Locust Street school waiting for her every morning. with fresh lit tle faces md fresh little minds. With the Saturday afternoon con- ccrts and matineos with some of the teachers, or with Aunt Ger trudo or with - Andy. And then Sunday with Andy again. Driving with him -- swimming with him picnicking with him.
 Why, he was my whole life back home, and I never knew" thought Robbie, choking on piece of pep rery veal.
 She jumped Up all at once, and was across the kitchen and out into the hall, where the brown paper package lay on the table be- side letters addressed to Miss Marie Firkin" and Miss Joannio Firkin" Robbie often wondered who wrote to those two silent and colo~lcss slaves of the typewriter poor things,
 With quick impatient fingers sh" broke the string and stripped off tho brown paper WrappinEs. Within vas a flat tan-colorc0 box such as photographors' plates come in.
 And within that box was a stack Of glazed photographs enlarge monts of snapshots they looked like.
 Hobbies big brown eyes grew big ger and rounder and darker than ever as she lifted them up and he gan Ii run through them. They were photographs of the old white house on Locust street, back home. BJit how changed it was.
 There were shutters on every window, plain shutters that looked as if they might be painted dark glossy green, and that had tiny pin6 trees cut into them to let through the light and air
 There were straight curtains at all the windows and white shades, instead of the green shades and lace curtains that Aunt Gertrude had loved, and that Robbie always had detested.
 A new fan-light had been put in above the front door, and there were cunning little hay-trecs in tubs on either side of t'.a front steps. The ugly brick foundation of the house had been hidden by dwarf evorgrecns, and on the whole