The Washington times., 1935-09-13

IL, d1 ISL oA0 SOV AO' SAS V
did not hesitate to change hel
The Shannons were paying for
the upright piano bought when
she was 10, 50 that she could
take music lessons, long after
she gave up piano for ukelele.
It stood, a shiny mahogany
milestone marking one epocn OF
her education, in the corner be-
tween the front and back par
lors, and that it never wore an
embroidered Mandarin skirt
was because Mary Shannon de-
veloped a conscience just at
the time she developed a taste
for Mandarin skirts on pianos.
For 18 years she had followed
the flowery path of complete
and gorgeous selfishness. With
Ma to tell Pa that Mary wasn't
asking a bit more than any
other girl her age, and Pa to
dig down in his pockets, and
Aunt Willie, who came to live
with them after Gramma died,
to tell her not to let that Jean
Harvey, who wasn't half as
bright and sweet and pretty, get
ahead of her, it was simple.
Awakening
From dancing school and tulle
and spangled ballet skirts that
Ma and Aunt Willie sat up
nights over, to piano, to ukelele,
to tennis rackets. to chiffon hose
and pink, silk undies. to peach
colored taffeta ready-made for
NAL ($27.50, and alterations
extra) for the Hi School Grad
uating Dance, to college, and
more ready-made clothes and a
sorority pin, was just one tri-
umphant march.
And she'd be marching yet if
she hadn't seen Pas collar.
Pas collar, a little too big for
him, frayed on the edges, limp.
It was the night she was try
ing to cram for a history final
and couldn't keep her mind on
the book. She couldn't keep her
mind on anything but Jamie
Todd.
When she tried to put it on
history it just went blank.
She kept looking at Pas col
lar, because it happened to be
right in her line of vision. He
was sitting across the table
from her, reading the evening
paper.
Of course she'd always known
he didn't make very much. If
he had, they'd have moved
from Oakland to Piedmont
when the Harveys did. But,
looking at him that night, see.
ing that collar, watching him
nod over his paper, his head
forward, looking so uncomfort-
able, so helpless and sort of
old and defeated, had changed
everything.
It had come to her. in a
sort of sickening flash, that he
was getting old and he'd never
be able to make more money,
no matter how hard he tried.
AS if for the first time she
saw the whole house, not as it
was to her-So much junk that
ought to be got rid of and re-
placed with better things, but
as it must seem to him and Ma.
The green-glass table lamp
that he and Aunt Willie had
clubbed together to buy for Ma
one Christmas. The radio they
were still paying on. The
piano they'd paid $500 for.
The hand-painted cups on the
plate rail.
It was all so wonderful to
them. 1t was the best they
could hope to do. They couldn't
do any more for her. They'd
done too much already. She
could never have thought they
could do any more. It was
time she stopped college, stopped
trying to keep up with Jean
Harvey and the Omegas, started
making a living for herself.
They hadn't liked it very
well.
They hadn't understood.
But she had, her way, as
usual. If she wanted to be a
private secretary instead of a
dancer, or an actress, or an
art teacher, as previously
planned, it was up to her,
though they didn't hesitate to
express their disappointment.
"A private secretary" Pa
said. Why. anyone can be a
private secretary, babel"
mot the kind I'm going
to BEL"
He puffed up a little then.
But he needn't have, because
now that she was a private
secretary-or, stenographer