Evening star. [volume] (Washington, D.C.) 1854-1972, 1928-08-19

composedly, without in the least sus-
| pecting the sensation she had caused.
| AS to the woman passengers, they
| looked at each other with sudden, inti-
mate understanding, but the respectful
admiration of the men around found
no reflection in their giggles, gasps and
concentrations.
One woman, for illustration, who was
! fat but could never hope again to be
fair and forty in this world, asked the
perfectly strange passenger next:
| where do you suppose that old poke
came from? Lor, I'm glad We don't
| have to have waist lines any more-I
couldn't stand starched clothes and cor
sets again-though, I must say, 1 used
| to wear lovely shirtwaists-I was in
! Government Office at the time, and We
/ girls Used to spend our lunch hour do
ing lace and embroidery to see which
could turn out the 1oveliest patterns
with fancy mulls and white linen skirts
! for dress. Wonder where that old lady
J has been keeping herself all this time?"
! The other woman smiled back but
made no comment. Her memory was
/ viSioning another Shirtwaist woman,
small and trig and Snappy, whose black
skirt and snowy waist have given place
| to the shining robe that angels wear.
| Besides, it is handler to let some one
else do the talking.
| mo. sir, couldn't go back to corset
steels no more OF course, wear a
belt-and you feel so cool this way
| and it keeps you as young as the flap
| pers-and makes 1.-The wash bills so
| easy"-and so on.
To achieve this trio of blessings the
| woman who was fat, but would never
| again be tair and 40, wore a bob SO
| short that its spiked edges exposed a
bulge of flesh that rolled around her
! neck to form double chin and a potty
/ contour that was sleeveless organdie
| down to brown silk knees. But she was
| frankly comfortable in her breathing
| and her voice had the exhilaration of
| youth-doubtless owing to freedom from
| steel-hugging stays. So she was all
! right-only-
Every man in that part of the car
| looked at the shirtwaist woman with
| respectful admiration, as if he. too,
were looking backward at a day when
an oldiSh woman dressed with the SIM
| pie dignity in keeping with her years.
| A WOMAN sculptor who has won
recognition abroad Is coming
| home next week to set up studio in
! this town. How she succeeded will
! doubtless make feature stories to be
syndicated all over everywhere. but the
way she started is sort of private lit
| tie yarn that goes about like this:
Out in the country. ? miles
| by motor. there is an old farmhouse
/ shaded by ancient trees. unless the
| vandal named Progress has come along
4 ws.l4 - r. .S~
| four years ago-lay little old grand
a Jobs, trouble quilt. And taking care
| of her, day and night and then back
| to day again. was Patty. And it is
| Patty that is coming home.
! When the little old grandmother
wasn't calculating her funeral expenses
| and how long 1t would be before she
| was forgotten, she nibbled buttered
toast and drank tea from her "Rebekah
at the well" teapot. which was one Of
her wedding presents before the Civil
War-which showed how old she was.
Or she went sound asleep like little
child tired out from play And 1t was
during one of those lucky intervals
that Washington woman called to
ask Patty something about her work.
The girl just turned II and pulsing
with ambition. gold tinged with genu-
inc ability. took her visitor to her bed
room, which she didn't call studio
! possibly because she knew 1t wasn't
being a bare, clean and rambling sort
of sleeping room with the sun filtering
through the tree branches to Jazz over
whitewaShed walls and bare floor, ex-
cept for one rag rug. shaped oval
There was hearth filled with pine
bou9hs, and over in corner stood a