The Waterbury Democrat., 1935-08-15
BY JAMES LAWN

There were times when Everard
Wiggers felt very old, and there
were times, too, when he could not
but be certain his life still was all
before him. He was growing mo-
ticeably bald, and he grew q mus
tache to see how he would look.
Everard was uncertain, and shaved
it off; and he was still uncertain
and let it grow in again; and then,
again, he shaved it off.
All his life, more or less, Ever
ard had been that way; uncertain.
His landlady, stout woman with q
tuft Of hair growing from wart
on her face, was his only conf
dant and his old-fashioned car his
only pleasure. His landlady was
twenty years older than he was, but
when a man is AZ and has not
married - in fact, has never been
in love any woman makes
good companion.
Everard would in the evenings
often discuss with her at length af
fairs of the day, or affairs at his
office where he had started nine
teen years before as a file clerk
and where he was still a file clerk.
On Sundays if the weather was
nice, or even If it was raining
bit, Everard would take himself
out for a ride in his car. The auto
mobile was as personal to him as
any animated thing. He had given
1t name. He not only drove it, he
caressed it, and he knew every inch
of 1t.
On Saturday afternoons, when
he did not have to work overtime,
he would take off the hood of the
car and putter around it, testing
the spark plugs adm othere such
things as the horn. He washed 1t
carefully and polished it and kept
it in good repair at all times.
"Well," declared Everard after
he put down the paper he had been
reading on one particular Saturday
afternoon, well, guess I'll go out
in the garage and tune up the old
bus a Bit"
But it's raining out" said Mrs.
Mack, the tufted landlady, as she
COIlLllluCu " OuSt dUOut SiC SAINAA6
room.
"Oh, little rain won't hurt me-"
boosted Mr.. Wiggers. ut takes
more than that to stop me-"
IT amt the one to be getting in
any mans way.sI never got in my
husbands way when he was alive,
poor soul, and I amt going to get
in yours. But the last time you
went out in the rain you caught
yourself a bad cold, Mr.. Wiggers."
I'll wear my muffler," Mr.. Wig
gers compromised, and dressing
himself as we'll as he might to pro-
itect himself against the rain went
|out to the little garage at the rear
of the house.
1t was a very snug little garage.
Mr.. Wiggers had put the tar
paper on the roof himself, double
thickness, to insure no leaks in the
roof. There was good molding
around the windows and around
the doors and there were substan-
tial locks inside and out. If any
one broke into Mr.. Wiggers' gar
age it would not be without effort.
Mr.. Wiggers turned his collar up
against the rain, scooted across the
yard, fumbled a moment with the
keys he kept on a heavy chain, and
shortly was within the confines
small but ample, Of his ga.
rage. He looked upon his car ano
he was happy. These times, wher
| messing about and listening to the
firm chug of the motor, were those
in which Mr.. Wiggers felt youngest.
The rain blew into the garage
made it feel damp and uncomfort-
able. Everard slammed the door.
Mrs. Mack had long since fin
ished with her house cleaning. she
had come back from the grocery
store, she had prepared supper. and