The Washington times., 1935-09-28

cosmetics, empty now.
"Despondent over ill-health,"
the newspapers had it.
The irony of it! Aunt Willie.
who had so enjoyed her ill
health"
"It's all over, we can't do a
thing for her." Pa said with
false cheerfulness. He couldn't
forget it, either.
Misfortunes never come sing
ly, Mary thought, when Pa lost
his job on the first Of April.
"A joke on me. After % years
with the firm" he said mlrth-
lesSly.
And then Aunt Mamie, Mas
elder sister, the one with the
well-to-do husband, wrote offer
ing to set the family up on a
chicken ranch near Petaluma.
Pa was suddenly in seventh
heaven. Even Ma was glad. She
started right in, wrapping china,
taking down pictures, busting
them.
Nobody seemed to remember
that there wasn't anything for
Mary in Petaluma no lie
for her on a chicken ranch.
what about ME?" she asked,
when no one else seemed to
think of it for her.
Families are always surpris-
ing you. It didn't seem possible
that Ma and Pa could leave the
high shingled house where they
had always lived, where she had
been born. And here they were,
cheerfully packing.
Sometimes they'd be sad
about it, but not for long. Pa
would hold the hammer he was
using to nail a crate, smoothing
it with his other hand, his eyes
fixed straight ahead.
But just as you'd begin feel
ing sorry for him, he'd start up
his old song, "Da dadada da. ..
da, dadada da. -" He'd be
working again with a will.
Ma hated to leave the mock
orange tree in the backyard,
and the scillaS and crocuses and
Dutch lilies she had planted
o1,1v last fall She didn't know
how they ever accumulated so
much junk. What did Mary
want to do about all her souve-
Mrs and school papers in the
box in the basement, and could
not she look over her doll things
packed so many years ago, and
decide what to do about them?"
II don't want any Of the
junk" Mary said.
She didn't. But she did think
that Ma would want to keep it
oh, what's the use Of keep
ing anything? What does any
thing matter?
When Ma and Pa drove to
Petaluma on Sunday, to go over
the property with the old own
ers, she stayed home alone, look
ing over her clothes, opening
little boxes she had tucked away
in odd corners Of bureau and
closet.
She got out Jamie's letters. A
Yneaper nile. OnlV five or six,
and none of them real love let
tiers. She snubbed the impulse
to read them over. She laid
them on the floor beside her,
and grubbed on through the
. other things precious
once, but just trash now.
There was the pink ribbon
she had worn around her hair
the day she met him.
Faded, and spotted with the
salt spray. Fool that she
was to save it!
That went on the little pile Of
letters. So did a Shoebox full
of dance bids and programs and
a little album Of snaps she had
begun and lettered on the cover
in white ink. my College Days."
and down below, MARY Dora
Shannon"
The snaps were all out Of
style, anyway. How do hats
get to looking so tacky in only
a year?
But when she came to the
snap Of Jamie-the one she had
had enlarged and had always
kept on her bureau in the little
silver frame Jean Harvey gave
her for Christmas, three years
ago, she heSitated.
She had had it so long.
Sort of got used to it.
ITO be cOntinued)
(CopriRht, 1895, BY King