Evening star., 1937-09-26

lhe thing ndQ n1m Deat. But II was pfetty LIS
tinctly pretty down there among the grass and
flowers. He kept the delicate adjective dis
creetly under his hairy chest. but there it stuck
- like bur he'd swallowed.
Now, James Regan was not man to give
in easily to anyone or anything and it wasn't
long before he climbed down from his pole
and made his way as quietly and swiftly as
the ironwork on his legs permitted. over the
fagstone walks of the modest plot Where two
close at hand. And was no better off than when
he was forty feet in the air. He took off his cap
and rumpled his black thatch.
A lady in fresh percale came out on the
back stoop to hang up dish towel. James
slowed his tobacco politely in one cheek and
addressed her.
Lady, l want to ast you. What is that?"
Despite the lump in his cheek and the hair
on his chest, James was very taking rascal,
with bright eyes and a curl to his black thatch
and something evezlastingiy young and eager
in his manner. The Lady smiled.
Its sundial." she answered. 1T tells
time"
MOI" James squinted at the face of it and
dld some CALCULATIONS.
Five minutes past two?" he inquired. not
believing it yet.
Yes : the lady glanced through the door
at her clock = almost exactly"
The son of -" James shifted his tobacco
quickly. do it all the year round or only in
summer" he wanted to know.
'An the year round - when the sun Shines
the lady told him.
Sure enough. inside the figures was motto:
Counts only sunny hours"
''I1l be darned! First time ever seen
one of them things"
For sheer relief he had to spit. He did so.
voluminously. The smile fro1e on the ladys
face She shuddered and hurried into the house.
From the crossarms of the next pole in the
alley ribald voice mocked him: 'Whyn't you
put it in your pocket. bud. and take it home
with you?"
''You 70 to blazes!" roared James, his SUM-
burned face a fine deep terra Gotta as he
clumped back over the walks. He dug his
heels viciously into the pole as he started
aloft again. Women!
But, even with his back turned. he kept
seeing that two-for- -a-nickel garden clock -
and the flowers - and the bit of white towel
tapping pleasantly on line - and lady in
fresh percale standing on the wee porch,
smiling
ITO hell with it!'' growled James, burning
more hotly within than without.
The thing was that up to this, the twenty
third year of his life, there had been no such
things as gardens in the life of James Aloysius
Regan and precious little ornamentation. He
had never felt the want of such things before.
OF course, the want must have been there or
he'd not have felt it now. When he was wash
ing up for supper that evening. Ike remembered.
His mother. She'd been great one for fixing
up things.
They'd lived in downstairs fiat on Benton
Street those days. when he and his brothers
were kids. A dirty neighborhood. and they
were poor; but she managed somehow to have
clean lace curtains at the front windows and
a fern on a stand between them. Sometimes
she cried because the ground beside the front
steps was hard You couldn't dent it with
pick, she said; but then, as if tears had re-
minded Him, the Lord would send a soaking
rain and she'd SOW the spot with Towering moss
and it would come up and bloom in rainbow
of color on the shabby old street. She came
finally to the glory of an oleander in tub.
James had to carry it down cellar when frost
threatened.