Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-01-15

tired, heavy-eyed. but her incorrigible
parents were still talking.
I'm dreadfully sleepy, dears." she
said. IF you don't mind / think III
go to bed"
She bent over Honey and kissed her
gently but when she came to Dabs he
caught her to him suddenly DO you
love your old parents, Jude?' he
asked her teasingly, but his wistful
eyes caught hers, chung to her straight
glance. He seemed TO be begging
her for something.
"Oh. Dabs, you're such a darling
old thing" she cried, hugging him.
Even if I'm a failure?"
But you're not a failure!' Her
loyal tone was like a lifted banner.
Honey yawned from her bedroom
door. She was wrapped now in a
faded pink negligee and her hair hung
in two thick. bright braids on either
side of her small face.
/ Night" she cried. and snapned
out the light.
Night Judy cried back. And.
then She said again, You're not a
failure, Dabs''
Out in the l<itchenette faucet leak
ed with weary and persistent sound.
All, Jude. but | am, What's the
use of bluffing myself any more?' His
voice was sad. The motions with
which he sank into one of the sagging
chairs were those of utter WEAKNESS.
judy dropped lightly on the arm of
the chair, caught one of his hands in
hers.
Now there you go again. she
reproached him
But he shook his head mo, Jude.
This is different. Poor, funny little
kid, you. No wonder you say There
you go again Il wonder" he ran q
slow hand over his head. Il wonder
how many times you've steered me
back 10 belief in myself. Jude. l
wonder
Judy was troubled by the quiet. pas
sionless voice. She turned rather
desperately to teasing II can do it
again. she boosted childishly
And at that, quite suddenly her
father bent his head into his hands
and sobbed!
ooh, Dabs. oh, Dabs. Don'tr'
Judy's heart ached. She flung her
arms about his shaking shoulders.
pressed him to her. They've hurt
you. The beasts! They've hurt YOU"
Dabs flung up his head. The tears
still glittered on his long lashes. mo,
I'm not hurt. Not by any one but my
self, at least. But, Jude" his voice
broke as though in wonder or in fear,
I've nothing left! And there's no
time TO build over again! Why, Jude,
I'm an old man! 1t used to be that
Id think, When I'm 80 I'll be this
or that or the other Then it was
When I'm 40" And I'm nearly so,
Jude! No use looking ahead. /
haven't got the thing / thought
had! I've never had it! never will
have it! Jude! What am / to do?
What am / going to do with the rest
Of my life?"
Judy longed violently for Honey.
She would know what to do, what to
say, Should she wake her?
What makes you talk this way,
Dabs?' she cried uncertainty.
Judy watched her fathers shaking
hands as he fumbled in his pockets.
lie pulled out a crumpled sheet of
paper, Read it!' he said grimIy.
The letter-heading was that of B.
famous publisher. The note was short,
direct, brutal.
Dear Sir: Your book Cyrus
Langford Gentleman is being return
ed to you under separate cover.
You have asked us for a frank
opinion of the quality of your work
| and although we are not in the habit
OF doing this, we are making an eX-
ceptlon in your case. This book is
dull, ordinary. Neither the theme nor
. the writing has anything to commend
1t. 1t is a poor book, written in a
poor way.
We are sorry to have to tell you
this, but feel that our honesty may
prevent further dsappointments for
you. Very truly yours"
AS Judy finished the letter Dabs
gave a short bitter laugh. "You see?"
he asked her I'm a failurew he
went on. only Honey still believes
in me. lin coward. too, l
haven't dared to show her this letter.
! You see, I'm still willing to trade on
Honey,s feeling for me, even when l
know m cheating her. She believes
| in me.
; She always has. | can't give that
! up. But I'm not a great writer. I'm
"a very poor writer, Jude! What's
| left?"
| His voice died to silence. The let.
ter slipped from Judy's fingers and
! futtered to the floor between them
! There ii lay, white reproachful. fate
/ full. Judy stared down at it angrily
! How could those men be so sure that
| Dabs book was no good? There were
| other publishers
These aren't the only good pub
| lishersn' she cried.
| This isn't the only letter Of that
| kind"' Dabs returned quietly. And
in lower tone, 'Well, Jude, what's
left?"