Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1927-02-07
from Yesterdays start
CHAPTER iii.
The Man Who Grew Vegetable
MarrnuU

with Ralph" said, surprised
there isn't any"
Then why is he staying at the
Three Bears instead OF at FernlS
Park"
did not for a minute question
Caroline's statement that Ralph. Patton
was staying at the local inn. That
Caroline said so was enough for me
"Ackroyd told me he was in Lon
don," / said. In the surprise of the
moment / departed from my valuable
rule of never parting with information
| oh" said Caroline. l could see her
nose twitching as she worked on this
He arrived at the Three Bears
yesterday morning." she said. And
| he's still there. Last night he was
out with a girl"
That did not surprise me in the
| least. Ralph, / should say, Is out
with a girl most nights of his life. But
I did rather wonder that he chose to
! Abbot instead of in the gay metropolis.
'One of the barmaids?" l asked.
mo. That's just it, He went out
| to meet her. I don't know who she
! is"
Bitter for Caroline to have to adj
NIT such a thing)
But I can guess continued my
| indefatigable sister.
waited patiently.
His cousin"
| Flora Ackroyd?" / exclaimed in
surprise.
Flora Ackroyd is. of course, no re-
| lation whatever really to Ralph Patton,
but Ralph has been looked upon for
so long as practically Ackroyd's own
son that cousinship Is taken for
granted.
Flora Ackroyd," said my sister.
But why not so to Fernly if he
wanted to see herr
Secretly engaged said Caroline,
with immense enjoyment. "Old Ack-
royd won't hear of it, and they have
to meet this way"
1 saw a good many flaws in Caro-
lines theory, but l forebore to point
them out to her. An innocent remark
about our new neighbor created a
diversion.
The house next door. The Larches.
has recently been taken by a stranger.
| To Caroline's extreme annoyance, she
has not been able to find out any
thing about him, except that he is Il
foreigner. The Intelligence Corps has
proved a broken reed. Presumably
the man has milk and vegetables and
Joints of meat and occasional Writings
! just like everybody else, but none of
| the people who make it their business
/ to supply these things seem to have
acquired any information. His name,
apparently, Is Mr.. Porrott--a name
which conveys an odd feeling of I'M
4 reality. The one thing we do know
about him is that he is interested in
| the growing of vegetable narrows.
But that is certainly not the sort OF
| information that Caroline is after.
She wants to know where he comes
from, what he does, whether he is
married. what his wife was, or is.
like, whether he has children. what
his mothers maiden name was-and
so on. Somebody very like Caroline
must have invented the questions on
passports, I think.
MY dear Caroline / said. there 4
no doubt at all about what the mans
profession has been. He's retired
hairdresser. Look at that mustache
of his"
Caroline dissented. She said that IL
the man was a hairdresser he would
have wavy hair-not straight. All
hairdressers did.
cited several hairdressers person
ally known to me who had straight
hair, but Caroline refused to be con-
WINGED.
"I can't make him out at ALL" she
said in an aggrieved voice. II Dor
rowed some garden tools the other
| day, and he was most polite. but |
| couldn't get anything out of him. ]
asked him point blank at last whether
| he was a Frenchman, and he said he
wasn't-and somehow I didn't like to
ask him any more"
began to be more interested in our
mysterious neighbor. A man who Is
capable of shutting up Caroline and
sending her, like the Queen of Sheba-
empty away must be something OF
a personality.
II believe" said Caroline, that he's
got one of those new vacuum
/ saw a meditated loan and the OPP
portunity of further questioning
| cleaning from her eve. seized the
chance to escape into the garden.
am rather fond of gardening. / was
busily exterminating dandelion roots
when a shout of warning sounded
from close by and a heavy body
whizzed by my ear and fell at my feet
with a repellant squelch. 1t was q
vegetable marrow
1 looked up angrily. over the wall
to my left, there appeared face. Ar
egg-shaped head. partially covered
| with suspiciously black hair, two i'm
mense mustaches, and pair OF
| watchful eyes. 1t was our mysterious
neighbor. Mr.. Porrott.
He broke at once into fluent
apologies.
81 demand of you a thousand
pardons, monsieur. I am without de
tense. For some months now / cult
waite the marrows. This morning
suddenly enrage myself with these
marrows. send them to promenade
themselves-alas! not only mentally
but physically. seize the biggest
hurl him over the wall. Monsieur,
am ashamed. PROSTATE myself"
Before such profuse apologies, my
anger was forced to melt. After all
the wretched vegetable hadn't hit me
But / sincerely hoped that throwing
large vegetables over walls was moi
our new friends hobby. Such habit
could hardly endear him to us as &
neighbor.
The strange little man seemed t.
read my thoughts.
"Ah. no." he exclaimed. do no.
disquiet yourself. It is not with m,
a habit. But can you figure to your
self, monsieur, that a man may worl
toward q certain object, may labo
and toll to attain certain kind o
leisure and occupation. and then flint
that, after all, he yearns for the oil
busy days, and the old occupation
that he thought himself 50 glad t.
leave?"
YES" ! said slowly. IT fancy tina
that is a common enough occurrence
myself am perhaps an instance.
year ago I came into a legacy-enougl
to enable me to realize dream.
| "a e. %V-av n ga
the world. Well, that was a year ago
as I said, and--I am still here"
My little neighbor nodded.
1.-THE chains Of habit. We work t
attain an object, and the obJec
gained, we find that what we miss