Evening star., 1937-09-23

autona tically obeyed-especially when
that command was backed up by eyes
that held the same sort of assurance
as Margit's.
She walked over to the easel.
AS she walked. the artist contin-
ued TO talk and to look at her
There's little Mona Lisa in YOU
little Garbo-and something all your
own. Your hair curls naturally that
way-a rare thing these days" He
was sitting down on his camp stool
Keep on holding your chin up" He
began to draw. Not a brain in your
head, I can see. Good. I like that
peeved expression" His hand was
moving rapidly. A number of people
were looking on. There were brains
once-but they've atrophied through
lack of use. Curious nose. Looks
snubby, but isn't"
Irene's disheveled thoughts began
to catch up with the situation, largely
because she felt that she had been
insulted. She decided to say some
thing. Please hurry" She opened
her handbag. How much will it be?"
The man with the dark eyes did
not look up from his work. MY name
Is Charlie. What's yours?"
Irene Agnew"
How do you do? Where do you
live?"
"Bayview." Irene bit her lip. She
had been talking too much. A thing
like this would drive Margit crazy.
1t was really Waldo's fault. Ever
since he had tried to change Margit's
decision about their wedding date she
had felt quite upset. She tried to
rstionalize her predicament. After
all, it was a rather charitable thing
for her to do. The young man looked
quite nice. He spoke nicely-used
words like 'atrophied that
meant. He was probably educated
and very poor. AS soon as he fin
shed the sketch she'd give him a
dollar. Maybe some day he would be-
come famous. He looked like the kind
OF person who eventually became IA
nous. They'd hang his pictures in
the Metropolitan. She'd keep the
sketch he was making and when she
was gray-haired old lady she'd prob
ably get thousand dollars for it.
Then If Margit ever found out she'd
dsgraced herself posing on Madison
avenue she could say in the end, II
told you So
'1rene's reverie was temporarily in
terupted. The sketch which she'd lust,
imagined as becoming immortal, was
snatched from the easel by the young
artist, crumpled, and thrown in the
gutter.
Irene said with astonishment,
What did you do that for?"
The young man who had said his
name was Charlie, snorted Its no
use! I've got to do you in oils or
nothing"
Irene felt that the whole episode
had become farce. She told herself
that the thing to do was to sweep
through the knot of onlookers and
depart. However, she hung around
for another moment. Charlie was
squirting at her over pencil on
which he was making thumb meas
urements. Abruptly policeman
came through the small crowd. His
voice was not merely authoritative
it was coarse and insulting. He said
what policemen always say, What's
going on here?"
Charlie looked at him despairingly.
Nothing. That's just the trouble"
Let me see your license" said the
cop.
Charlie, who was still looking at
Irene, replied vaguely, II haven't any
license
Just what I thought" The cop
looked around and saw that he had
q pretty good audience. Cops enjoy
good audience for the exercise
Of their abrasive little autocracies.
Haven't got license? I suppose
you haven't got $25 either?"
NO"
The policeman now reached the
climax of his act. Then I suppose
you know what you are going to get?"
Charlie turned his full conscious
attention for the first time on the
man in uniform. "Get?" he repeated.
The cop beamed maliciously. "Thir-
ty days-for peddling without a
license"
The crowd laughed delightfully."-.