The Washington times., 1931-06-04

there"
They leaned over the para
pet, young and eXultant,
stricken with the wonder of
what they were, even more
than with the wonder of what
they beheld.
The Book of Life
It's the book Of life writ
ten on a postage stamp" he
said.
"Putrid! can do better
than that. It's the story of
the circulation of the blood
being told by those crawling
caterpillars down there"
Zero. It's Lucifer being
hurled, and splitting. as he
strikes bottom. into land and
water, skyscrapers and taxi
cabs"
Elegant, but dumb.
The wind in their faces
could not bulge her in the
tight black helmet that COW
cred her head like close hair.
1t lifted the light tan thatch
of Gratton's though, as If it
were a wig. It was difficult
to indulge in any but a breath
less sort of discourse, and yet,
smartly at first. young, exult-
ant, and high-keyed each to
the others presence.
The roof of the world isn't
so cozy as the low little old
thatched ones of Devonshire
and English poetry"
After spending a summer in
a picturesque. damp, uncomfort-
able and gloomy thatched cot
tage in Sussex, I am convinced
that love in cottage may lead
to lumbago."
Love! Must all converse
tional roads lead to love?"
Pretty many, I suppose, be-
tween the delightfully."- unat-
tached like ourselves. Daring
to assume that you are unat-
GdClSQ ike ourselves.
Your way. I suppose, of ask
ing how, or if, l have recovered
from my last devastating love-
AFFAIR.""
Many a true word
Many and many true word
..." she said, fastening her
hard hurt eyes upon him.
We'll. to whom it may concern.
the dead past has buried it's
Berry. I'm so unattached it
hurts! I think I'm in love now,
with the idea of being in love
with you, Grafton"
Il wish you could manage to
get all the way through to be-
ing in love with me, Jennifer
I need to be rich. I've a low
kind of Indiana background
that 1 don't seem to be able to
live down. I can't feel the
swank of evading my creditors.
An unpaid dry-cleaner's bill will
insist upon keeping me too wor-
ried to tackle a second act"
AN admirable but low in
stinct. my lad, not acknoWl-
edged in circles of the creative
impulse.
Ill at Ease
Il know it! But hang it all,
my highest creative impulses,
whatever that means, get all
obscured by fear that the dry
cleaners thirteenth child may
be dying of rickets, for need of
pure, fresh milk. OF course,
dry cleaner can probably buy
and sell me 10 times over, but
that doesn't seem to lessen my
obligation"
GO on"
"Where?"
mot being all the wise-crack
things we seem to pretend to
be, whenever we are together"
Its you who sets that pace,
Jennifer."
Il need the wiSe-crack, to di-
vert the eye Of the beholder
from seeing through how I do
my poor little mental tricks.
You don't"
"Jennifer, are you being
humble?"
Il want to be-"
That's terrible! 1t somehow
:. hurts. I prefer you
naughty"
Il think you do"
Il think don't-really-"
Grafton, guess why my face
aches?"
Too loaded with the seduc-
tiveness of youth and beauty"
Don't rag. I am being pro-
found and introspective. Alti-
tude does that to me. My face
aches. Grafton, from pretend
ing to look like what it isn't"
Just Heart Aches
Perhaps, it is your heart that
aches, Jennifer."
Their bright young eyes
poured against each other. and