Evening star., 1928-06-05
June and Curls.

- ARK and petite, with eyes
mournfully at variance with
upcurving lips S Feliee l. Lear was was
tllre that might be called the
iris pool on June afternoon She was
not unlike the pool with its mysterious
eleamings, its sparklings, its grace en-
.oowed. haunting flowers, A small per-
son, she was not unpoSseSSed oi
strength. Temperamentally joyous, she
had vet known and borne sorrow. She
uas a person, then. of contrasts, Not
the least important Of her contrasts
was her daughter--alSo a small per-
son. being thrce--a direct opposite OF
her mother in Colorlng, pink as kiilar-
news, her hair thousand streaming
SlnbeamS.
Each fair June afternoon Felsce
Lear came to the iris pool, great black
books in her slender arms, her small
brown head high, eyes pensive, lips
a-smile. Her daughter. plump yellow
fairy. trotted by her side. IN her arms
: Mother Goose. paper, blunt scissors
Felice Lear had to study. She had
e have q masters degree so that Slle
1,.-ht teach English TO the 10 students
of Greenvale College South Carolina
The brown thraSherS III the elnlS might
}ubilantly agree that there was nothing
so rare as a day in June. that II was
for foving and singing OF loVlng, bul
Felice had to put her hands over ner
cars and sit still on bench unoer a
willow and study the notes on the
Shakespeare first folio Prof. Gates mao
given his university class that mornlng;
Everything that Prof. Gates let fail
from his lips seemed something to put
down in 4 notebook Engaging hght
brown ewes. a slender olive face, an
eager StevenSoncSoue charm of express
son. combined with undoubted Schoi-
arship and enthusiasm. we're quahtleS
of Prof. Gates that kept his lecture
room perennially full.
She raised her eyes from her BOOK
70 refresh her soul with a sight OF ncf
daughter. There she was dancing
among the shruhberv. But, oh, my,
there was that little boy playing with
her And here-tireSomel-waS his
father climbing as usual the Shadowy
steps of the Summer house by the
r1ool There was something a little
ike Prof. Gates about the man But
there she was. like all the other school
ma'ams, getting 10 think all the time
about Prof Gates. Sickenlng. But Wny
should q man want 10 come 10 the
same spot every afternoon? But there
he was. every day. in the shadows,
reading little, writing little. staring
out at the silhouette Of the city beyond
the trees. or. yes. talking across at her.
Sometimes he paced up and down
under the trees on the other side Of the
pool-and even then she felt troubled,
vaguely. Tomorrow she would-would
S4AHf UnrE n she
sighed. turned her back on Summer
house. pool. bridge and pacing man.
closed her eyes to bird songs and flXeo
her ewes on the pages of notes.
The man from the small path at the
lower end of the pool looked across
the irises. gray blue. purple. golden
cream. and sighed. He muttered TO
himself as he walked. and TO no ears
save his own expressed himself after
this fashion:
YOU fantastic idiot! Here you come
70 the same sickening spot every day
and cape at a woman Children have
the right idea about things. Tomor-
row I'm going over there and I'm go
ing TO say. My names Tom. What's
yours? May I play with you?' A ia
ther Of GoldiIocks- Titania somewhere
on this wnirling sphere? / somehow
don't believe it"
He stopped and stood quite still and
frowned at something flying down the
path toward him.
"Bv George!'' he whispered What
in the name of Medusa has the kid
got2 Tomi TOMMY iove-come here,
my young friend!''
His young friend came His young
friend was himself in miniature, slim