Evening star., 1929-12-19

1cAIOs SCCh . OCAhAAo va
there's that old blue basque of yours.
I don't reckon you'll wear 1t again"
That was old Mrs. Selden, across the
street.
She read in her small leisure. She
had discovered the public library, and
the world outside the house and the
street was developing in her conscious
ness. She began to see it,, not as a
series of orange and blue and pink
areas in the school maps, but as vast
background against which human be-
ings like herself were born, fought and
endured, wept and were happy. She
thought about them dreamed about
them. One evening she went out into
the yard and looked up at the moon
Queer to think that that same moon
Shone down on so many different peo-
pie, people like herself, speaking differ
ent languages. different even in color,
but like herself, nevertheless, :.
Come on in, Missie," Stella called
fretfully. What with Ellen shut up
gazing / never have soul to talk to. y
Sac sighed and went in, but there
WIS no resentment in her face. And
Stella would talk, on and on.
And I said to her, I said: well, II
you're going to take that attitude have
nothing to say. I've never done thing
to attract his attention, and If you say
shes jealous of you," Missie would
say sagely. "Of course, you'd never look
at him."
the third floor of Carter's store. His
name was Taylor. He was tall man
with a gold tooth, hair parted in the
middle and q long walrus mustache. He
had the habit of standing stroking this
mustache with one hand the other
thrust into the breast of his Prince
Albert coat, which Missie considered
affected; but it was the way he watched
her mother that she resented.
You wouldn't look at him. would
you, mom?"
Me? He's an, old fool, that's what
he is"
Nevertheless, there was certain unc-
ton in these recitals of Stella's. And
Missie recognized it. Perhaps it was
good for her. She no longer on enter
ing the house cast that quick, stealthy
glance toward the hat rack for letters.
There were fewer and fewer occasions
when Missile, wakening in the night,
would hear the steady creak of her
mothers rocking-chair. For the time,
at least, her passion for Lambert was in
abeyance.
But she had aged. Missile could see
that. Often at night, when she came
home, Missie helped her out Of her
shoes and her torturing stays and
sometimes carried up a tray to her.
You just sit still, nom. I'll be up
in a jiffy."
She would hurry down, deftly poach
an egg, clear the coffee with its shell,
make toast, get marmalade. Ellen
would watch her scornfully.
Let her come down. I'm working all
day and nobody fuses over me" -
"She's old. She's too old to have to
be on her feet the way she is
Small wonder that Missie felt that
her falling In love with Harry Sloane
savored of disloyalty.
The two girls had never figured in the
life of the neighborhood, and even had
things been other than they were the
fact that both Stella and Ellen we're
working would have initiated against
them. There was still definite line
drawn; the supported woman looked
down on the one unsupported, and men
we're opposed to women In business Tor
various reasons. one being that they
could not smoke or take off their coats
II there were women around" So. when
a number of the young people of better
class in the ward rented vacant lot
and built a tennis-court neither Missile
ror Ellen was approached. Missile was
philosophic about 1t,
"Where would we get the money!"
she asked.
But Ellen was resentful. She was am
bilious even then. She was definitely
engaged to Tommy wilkins by that
time and wore an infinitesimal diamond
set high in a mass of gold.
Some time I'm going to show this
neighborhood something" she said an
grily. "You marx my words. Tommy
isn't much to look at, but he's got
brains. He'll get on. and lot of these
people will be crawling on their knees
to get into my house some dav."
Thus Ellen-ambitious prophetic FL
len.
It was strange, then, that Missiles
first love should be by way Of the ten
mis- court. 1t is only curious that 1t
should have lasted as 1t did, that 1t
should somehow have impressed itself
on so much of her later life; it was as
thin. as tenuous throughout as the stun
her dreams were made of; 1t was built
almost entirely in her own imagination,
more a rallying point for her romantic
dreams and an escape from her drab
existence than anything else. Yet for
years the name of Harry Sloane was to
bring about queer construction about
her heart, a trembling of the hands
that she could not control.
She was in love with him before she
even knew his name. He was a tall
boy, with dark hair that slightly curled.
and he was a cheerful boy. He laughed
a great DEAL showing strong white
teeth, and when he passed the house,
swinging his racket, on the way to the
ice cream parlor, ne was often smiling.
He was a good-looking boy. but to Missile
he was a young god. She knew nothing
about him: all she knew was that her
heart beat faster when she saw him.
When she was able to look back on that
affair without pain. she wondered how
age could take so lightly those heart
burnings, despairs and fieeting joys OF