The Washington times., 1934-05-19

why can't you? It's extremely
flattering."
He went through his portfolio
showing her sketches in color.
All were of herself; prettier than
she was, but all with a hungry
ardor, a wistful insurgence In
the face.
do you want this picture Of
the lilies?"
I'D rather have a girl with q
happy look"
"I'll draw you that way later
on"
She flushed. A little tremor Of
excitement ran up about her
ears.
She was glad Of his companys
glad when he joined her on the
trails. He was not athletically
built; his shoulders were q little
stopped but he had long legs,
and swept along rapidly. He
would suddenly catch up with
her, take her arm and shove her
along with a laughing: Here
hurry up, won't you'll"
Sometimes Kate Stone was
with him. They were the gayest
of comrades though Kate was
surely so and an incorrigible
Spinster. Dale was "a and warm
ly attractive.
One day the three Of them
stopped off at his cabin. He
made tea and thin cheese toast
for them.
The cabin was crude--a huge
room with an enormous fire
place, benches, q piano, cushions
and very tiny kitchen. But the
windows framed lovely SnatcheS
of sapphire water and tama-
racks growing lonely from the
overhanging crags.
A Free Life
The walls were covered with
sketches made by Dale'S friends.
He had original drawings by
Homer Davenport, by Henry
Raleigh and a dozen others
whom Pippin didn't know.
He told interesting stories Of
his years in Paris, and later
years when he worked for a
syndicate in New York. Now
he was established and led a
free life.
Pippin sat on a cushion, her
hands clasped at her knees.
She wore hiking trousers and a
blue shirt open at the throat.
Kate, who was well under five
feet and stocky, wore brown
shorts and leather coat. The
costume was ugly, yet topped
off with her shaggy red hair
and now sitting tailor fashion
on the floor, she was pictur-
eSque.
"sit just as you are," he said
abruptly.
He got out a sketch-book and
very quickly made red crayon.
Pippin was bursting with eager
ness to see the work: Then she
was delighted.
"You like it? All right. it's
yours"
Maybe you want it?" she
said to Kate Stone.
"No-he always makes me
homelier than I am. He calls
it giving me character. I have
enough of that by nature and
would prefer a little beauty"
They launched into discus
sion of faces-what made them
interesting; what made them
beautiful. Dale told that once
he had followed a woman for
miles. She had the most arrest
ing face he had ever seen, yet,
analyzed, it was completely
ugly. But you felt something
about tan aura.
1--WE make our own faces
from the cradle upward just as
surely as Dorian Gray made
his. Take any boy at twenty.
Look at the eyes and the
mouth. Follow the face
through the thirties. See the
slow disintegration. If you
have courage follow it through
the devastating, complacent
forties when we quit the
struggle and give up our dream.
Look!"
He reached for a portfolio. A
sketch dropped out. It was Of a
young boy in soldiers uniform.
firm chin, full, sweet mouth, ar
dent, dream-filled eyes.
Pippin regarded it as it lay,
face upward on the floor.
"You?" She glanced up and
saw the color sweep to Dale'S
forehead.
"I didn't mean to be caught
in my own trap. But yes
here's what I've done with
NINE"
Pippin Waits
mot such a bad job!" she
said, gaily, surveying him.
Dale laughed, went over to
the small piano and began to
play.
"stop the noise!" Kate or
dered. "Play that sonata from
Bach"
Say, woman, I've given you
enough entertainment for one
afternoon"
He found PippinS eyes. wink