Evening star., 1934-05-29

treetops out Of which jutted islands
OF church steeples, water-tanks, upper
stories Of residences, red brick tower
with a black and gilt clock-face-the
court house, of course-and a flag
fiuttering over what she afterward
found was the local post of the Amer
lean Legion.
Sman-town noises rose to her The
staccato exhausts of fiivvers, dimin-
ishing up Main street, a train whistle
floating out of the hot distance. A
dog barked. The shrill whistle of the
silk mills. The blatant believing Of
the loud speaker over the entrance Of
the Catherwood Radio Shoppe.
Familiar, commonplace noises,
strongly unfamiliar to one accus-
toned to the shrill bedlam of noise
which fills the narrow streets Of HUI
tsen, the native quarter of Shanghai.
The smell of warm dust and melting
asphalt. Gasoline, sun-baked grass
and coffee from the hotel kitchen
below strange to a nose accus-
toned to the filth and the incense,
the sharp, pungent odors Of the East.
Impossible that the same planet could
contain Shanghai and this comfora-
It was night time over there
The Bund would be river Of light.
She could close her eyes and once
more see the flood Of bicycles, motors,
trans and rickshas pouring along 1t.
The teeming Nanking road. The
French Settlement across Yangking-
pang Creek. Broadway and the Amer
ican Settlement. The muddy yellow
Hwangpu River, crowded with junks
and lorchos, the big P. & o. boats,
tugs. men-of-war f1uttering the flags
OF all nations, French mail boats and
native sampans.
Memories are sunbeams through
sky Of cloudy gray ." sang the
radios loud speaker . Memo
ries are roses in the rain ."
Rose sat down suddenly in chair
and leaned her bare elbows on the
warm window-sill.
Well, it was over, the long journey
which had carried her thousands of
miles. If it hadn't been for Kitten
she never could have held up
she'd had to keep her self-control be-
cause of Kitten. 1t was over
Tomorrow would see Harvey laid away
in the quiet green hillside which held
his forefathers. Tomorrow would see
Harvey's wife and child-where?
Here! Quit feeling sorry for your
self! She caught the thought up
sharply. Lots of good that would do.
Shed made one bad break in calling
up the Therrolds when she got in
this morning-silly, sentimental fool
Well, she'd got good and snubbed
for her painsl
Days I know with you are just a
memory,
Just memory that's all
that's left to me :"
1t had been a silly sentimental
notion to follow Harvey to the end
like this But she'd grown SO
accustomed to looking after him it
had persisted to this ridiculous de-
gree. 1t had seemed heartless, at
the time. to desert that tragic casket.
Now she could see it was a mistake
to use the precious bank account for
railroad and steamship fare. No mis-
take, though, to get Kitten out Of
China China was no place for
a baby-a white baby, who had not
the good luck to have wealthy parents.
Happiness. guess, is just a men,
That radio again.
Happiness. There had been little
enough in Rose Therrold's life. At
first, after she had married Harvey
yes, there had been a little then. 1t
had been good to belong to some one
She had just wanted to rest, to let
some one take care of her.
1t hadn't taken her long to find out
that she was the one who must do
the taking care. Sitting in the hot,
shabby room, the girl let her mind
drift back through the years.
A rowing life, ever since she could
remember. Her mother and father
had been curcus performers who had
broken away from the big-top and
gone on the vaudeville stage with an
acrobatic act. When she was scarcely
older than Kitten, Rose had been part
Of the act, ball of baby flesh tossed
from one parent to the other for
nightly patter of applause. Her men,
ory showed her gypsy wanderings
along third-rate circuit, sharing the
ups ps-and-downs-they were almost in
variably downs-of the lives of her
unsuccessful parents.
An accident killed her mother and
broke her fathers spirit. Rose had
been II at the time. The act was
abandoned; another worked up CEN
tered around the small, precocious
figure of the child.
The tiresome waits on the five-a-
day; shabby overnight stands and
draughty village opera houses. Heart
breaking attempts to capture the
fancy Of small and noisy house, that
found its chief joy in batting the
actors. Milk-stop tourist trains, tourist
trains and railroad stations in the
rainy dawn Rose knew them all.
She learned to stretch q months
booking to cover three months of
idleness. She laundered her under
things in washbowls and cooked meals
for herself and her father over an
alcohol stove in the tray of her trunk.
She coaxed harassed landladies to wait
for overdue rent, and she became
adept at fashioning next seasons
dance costumes out of last seasons
| rags.
Her late teens found her out on
the West Coast, where she and her
father joined cheap theatrical
troupe planning to tour the Orient
with light musical comedies. A cold
caught on the crossing finished the
tired old man. The troupe broke up
shortly after it reached Shanghai.
Even in the heat of this close room
Rose Shivered as she found herself
recalling the fear of those days when
she had found herself alone and pen
niless in an Oriental city.