Evening star., 1934-01-05

In a shiny car and tossed a fascinating
come-on smile that invited her to &C
adventuring.
Not once had her phone brought z
laughing masculine voice to fiatter q
coax her into warm glow OF happi-
ness. Nor had messenger boy ap-
peared at her door to deliver a long
box Of flowers into her trembling, ex-
pectant hands.
There had never been a moment
when she sat in the soft light Of q
Summer moon half hoping, half fear
ing she was about to be thrtllingly
Charity possessed all the homely
old-fashioned virtues.
Perhaps that Is why Cupid seemed
to look past her tall, businessiike hgure
touch every girl but herself with his
magic love dart.
Charity had been envied by other
women for. her efficiency. But never
once in her life had she been given
a sour glance by one of her own sex
because she looked little too attrac-
tive for their comfort. Or because one
Of their men had turned and given her
o second appraising eye.
Other girls spoke of her as mice" or
sweet" Which is certainly no COM
pliment when coming from one woman
to another! 1t would have been more
fiattering to have been spoken OF as
that Jones dame" But Charity
evoked no such feminine flattery.
And so it was that anybody, should
they have happened to give second
thought to Charity Jones, would have
said that Fate, however prankish, could
have no plans for the girl in room 31l.
The switchboard operator yaWned,
looked at her call chart and plugged
into her board.
Good morning. It's 7:so. Miss
Jones'"
Thank you" Charitys voice was as
crisp and businesslike as though she
had been up and about for an hour
when she hung up the receiver
Without giving herself chance to
get sleepy again: she bounded out OF
room at the Secretaries and Stenog-
raphers' Club was big enough to bound
in-and turned on the shower.
It was two-by-four shower in a
cubby-hole Of bath room-but the
water was Just as cold and refreshing
as a pool on Park avenue to Charity.
Charitys only toilet articles were a
comb, hairbrush, q toothbrush, can
of rice powder and large puff. She
stood in front Of the little mirror in her
bath room briskly brushing her strong,
white. even teeth.
Then she ran a comb through her
long, black hair, bringing it back from
her face in a nondescript bun at the
back Of her head-and busted a little
powder on her nose.
Charity walked to the one little Gre
tonned window that looked out on the
Ninth avenue elevated tracks on New
York's West Side in the Forties and
put her head out for just a second.
1t was late April and the air felt as
though the day would be mild. So
Charity decided on last years blue serge
dress with the plain serge matching
coat. 1t was buSinesslike and would
wear like iron-and that was all Miss
Jones looked for in clothes.
At 7:45 Charity locked her door and
walked down the long hall leading to
the elevator She was always one OF
the first girls to breakfast in the large
cafeteria. She was due at 9 o'clock
at the Wall Street Trust Co., but she
was always at her desk a little
after $50
Charity always looked for the 2O-cent
economy breakfast on the cafeteria
menu board This morning it happened
to be prunes, one poached egg, toast
and coffee. Charity did not care for
prunes. But she ate them because they
were cheap-and because they were
good for her.
The Secretaries and StenographerS
Club was built by a group of philan-
thropic women for ONCE girls, and it
boaSted "all the comforts OF the
smartest hotel or club-for the lowest
rates 10 be found anywhere"
The rooms were only large enough
for single cretonned bed, a small
chiferobe with little mirror hung
over It. one comfy chair, a telephone
table and a small desk table built over
the radiator. But the place was
economical and respectable-the only
two things that interested Charity In
her quest for home in New York.
The swimming pool was the only one
OF the club privileges Of which Charity
took advantage. She loved to bathe in
its blue and white tiled depths
No men allowed beyond the we'll
chaperoned lobby. But that was the
least OF Charitys worries. She had no
men friends. And that had been the
one thing that convinced her that the
"Stenogs Club" was the proper place
for an unchaperoned young lady to
live.
Once in a while she sat in the lobby
a few minutes after dinner and watched
gay groups of girls join their boy friends
and rush off to a party. Or saw a
pretty young thing come out of the
elevator to join a handsome cavalier
who looked as though he were going to
kiss her then and there.
Occasionally Charity wondered what
1t would be like to be one of these
other girls. To have pretty clothes,
fN 10 1irrk1t nIr1I~
drive away in lovely cars to enchanted
spots. But she soon put those truant
thoughts out Of her mind when she re.
membered that not once in her life
had a man asked her for a date-or
even as much as called her on the
telephone.
Her happiness lay in her work. And
in the half Of her salary she was able
to send her mother and father every
week 50 that they might be able to
keep their heavily mortgaged little farm
in Iowa as haven in their old age.
Charity thought of her father and
mother as she ate her cheap little
breakfast. Her mother-little and bent
from overwork-her father tall and
guant, and slave to the soil. They
asked nothing of life-and it had given
them nothing.
IL Ildu LlIdll
q little when Charity somehow worked
her way through high school and then
took business course in Des Moines
She had taken care of children, waited
on tables in a restaurant, taken tickets
at a movie window-she had done any
work she could to realize her ambition.
When she announced her intention
of fnving enough money to go to New
YUk her parents had thought her a
little crazy. But in a year after her
graduation from business college she
was in New York, and wrote that she
had found a job in bank called the
Wall Street Trust Co. Since then the
check she sent every month had seemed
like a fortune to them, and had eased
the burden under which they were
struggling, until they felt almost rich
Charity's mother had worried a great
deal at first over the dire things that
might happen to her only child in New