The times-news. [volume] (Hendersonville, N.C.) 1927-current, 1938-06-02

Ike her understand.
going on around him. Then one
day he lacked his bag without a
word and blew the town, getting
a lift on truck trundling hun
dredS of miles to northward.
1t was the start of a long, long
journey. That town never saw
him again.
Once more the Murrays at
home heard from their Joe from
all parts Of the nation. He never
showed up ut home, but ne always
wrote every little while. His let
tiers were different from the old
ones, as you might expect; pet
not different in the smart, glib
tone Of them, or in the genial
razzmg for his brothers and sis
tcrs, and all news from home, but
rather in the underlying meanings
that Mrs. Murray in her shrewd-
ness could clearly read Only once
had joe dropped his wisccracking
style with which a man covers his
feelings; when he told them SIM
ply of Helcn'S death. That finish
cd all Mrs. Murrav'S WORRY, leav-
ing only a deep, abiding pit. She
was rarely cauStic about him at
ter that; her son was no longer in
the immediatet stare of cockv
and headStrOng boyhoOd; he was
a man, subject to sore hurt even
as baby, and so close to her
now. 1t is not only philosophers
who reason out those things.
Hes. in Duluth" she told the
family. Sh emissed him. Or per-
haps it was Detroit or Dallas.
"He's working in a sheet metal
shop again there. He says it's a
good job with plenty of work and
nice fellows and his boarding
house is clean and cheap. He likes
it and he thinks he'll stay
while"
But he never stayed. Soon
would come letter from another
town where he'd flown on sudden
impulse. The journey was re-
sumed. He had blown again.
alone, always alone.
"He. got too restless" Mrs
Murray would explain. "He could
not stand it. He likes this new
place; it's Il busy place and wide
open. he says, and plenty to do.
She fretted less about the girls
now, and generally she added,
Hes lonesome, but stubborn. l
wish he'd come home"
Joes was not stubborn, really.
If anyone had taken him by the
the hand and brought him home,
he'd most likely have gone with
out word. He was morelV blown
by a wind, wind that never
ceased and against which he could
not prevail. He had grown up too
suddenly, much faster than ma
ture ever intended, and the bones
of his beino, you might say, were
soft from the forcing. He was IN
different and he was lonesome,
(and nothing caught his interest
nor any person any more.
He fell into the way of taking
a lob at sheet metal work because
that was the last thing he had
done, and he could not help be-
ing good in that line because ms
hands were quick and sure, and
metal and the machines that WORK
metal cave him certain pleas
ure. He liked the air and atmosc
phere of those shops by a kind OF
instructive inclination; he liked
the clean crisp sound of metal
shearing in the bite of the big
knife, the exciting roar OF the
coke hearth or blow torch, the
acrid smells of hot lead and TIN
and iron, each different in its
wav the sweet smell of white, UNI
furnished sheets of virgin metal,
waiting to be cut and bent and
twisted and bepuiled into all man.
ner of useful and lovely shapes by
the hands of an adept at the art,
He went from helper to journey
man to mechanic with no special
effort, because good men were APP
nreciated in shop that year and
work was plentiful. Yet ne just
blew like a tumbleweed, out of
one lob into another, out of one
town into the next.
"What's the difference" he
wrote his demonstrating mother.
~ can always find a lob. What's
to hold me anv place if get
tired of it? l get tired Of it that's
all and blow and who cares? |
haven't met the boarding house
vet that was any better than the
next one | shove into" Then he
might close with, "No, Pm not
saving my money and wouldn't
know what to do with it if | did.
Here's ten bucks for yourself,
and for Pete's sake stop the wor-
rying. 'I'll turn out right side up
as always I'll write from Albu-
querque next week after | get
chance to look the place over.
(To Be Continued)