Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1928-10-07
AROUND THE CITY
BY MAMIE LANCASTER.

seemed to have made him for the ey
press purpose of showing how splendid
some humans can be. though he mus
have bsen lonesome in a strange city
too, perhaps. for he spoke to the ole
man as If he was glad Of the chance.
Hello, pop; hows business?"
Nothing much doing today. sir"
The admission was made with TIL
sbiect gratitude Of a creature not useC
to kindly solicitations.
That's tough Well, keep a-going
and good luck to you"
The big, strong. happy go-lucky char
started on his way, but was back be.
fore you could say Jack Robinson, i
that was your intention.
Say, pop. If we don't sell our truck
the pot goes empty and we get no chow
Gimme those shoestrings-the lot o.
EN-. I've got buddie who eats EN-
And fork over the pencils--I know lott
Of fellas pining their hearts away fol
your kind of pencils. You got anybody
in the Army?"
No, sir: he never had any sons, but
when he was boy he was in the Civil
/ War.
The enlisted man went into his
| pocket and fished out a fat purse
lined with dollar bills peeled off two
of them, handed them to the old Civil
War buddie. and then in sudden
whirl damned the whole stock back
into the one good arm and sprintsd out
Of the story.
And that was all there was to It.
unless you consider the rheumaticky
old man and the angel disguised as a
young one. And even If you don't stand
for the angel-some people won't--you
can't pretend to deny that other one
that shining, white-robed Other One
who lives up in that wonder place
where all of us want to go when we
die-and who records mans deeds in
book
This enlisted man. for one, will prob
ably never give his breezy helpfulness
another thought until some time a
Voice will say to him:
when you gave your brother food
and courage you gave it unto Me-"
THERE is an artistic junkshop win
= dow that features antiques along
with coral jewelry and latest fashion
doodadS-a collection that testifies to
what may happen to any of us once an
auctioneer gets the right of way in our
homes.
The other morning woman, who
must have been gray long. long time,
stood rooted before the window. APP
parently dead to the world and buried
in the past. People going and coming
may have glanced at her in passing.
but for the woman they were less than
the stuff that dreams are made of,
until the lightsoms step of youth caused
her 20 look at pretty girl who had
paused and was standing by.
The girl was pretty enough for any
one to look at. but the woman must
have Sensed something better than OUT
ward charm, for when the youngster,
having glimpsed the display was sprint
ing on, she halted her with an inquiry:
Interesting window, isn't it,"
yes. 1 always give it the once over
when pass this way And the smile
of ready admission was pleasant thing
to see.
Have you noticed the candelabra?
We had pair like that down at my old
homo, only ours had longer prisms.
Did you ever try to walk up and down
the room while looking through one Of
the crystal pendants? We children
used to steal in and UNLOCK prism
to look through-the most wonderful
colors. my dear
The pretty girl, who was flapper.
according to dress schedule. naturally
knew nothing Of such primitive play
things. but she smiled blithely as she
owned to it.
Why no, of course you are too young
to remember caindelabra days-but
there are many things here to remind
me Of old times See that coral pin?
My father gave me one almost exactly
like that on my sixteenth birthday an
AVa4 - k1aak 4. ei4s
dlestici, with the snuffers. I haven't
seen snuffer in use for nearly so
years. And there's a handkerchief ring
like mine l used to have, except mine
was garnets instead of pearls. 1t was
a most attractive way of carrying your
lace handkerchief at parties-and do
you see that comedian chain? My
friend. Mittie May. had one like 1t, ex-
cept that hers was a deeD red instead
of streaked with white. never knew
what became of that chain-but it was
so long ego. Mittie May died the year
we both came out in society"
You could tell--if you had been an
other woman listening in-that the
pretty girl wanted to be spfinting along
but felt that she ought to stay with
the poor old dear as long as she had
time. It must be really sad for old
people who want to talk over their
youth davs--with nobody willing to
bother with them.
And it seemed to the woman who
was listening in that the pretty girl in
the bubble age of golden youth carried
in her heart golden gift that time
could never tarnish; the gift of un-
Outstanding that sympathy to lonely
age is as true and great rs charity as
the giving of bread to the hungry.