Coulee City dispatch. [volume] (Coulee City, Wash.) 19??-19??, 1938-10-13
LINES
Each Of US has a place in
Iife's line, to do with what
we will. Are you making the
most Of yours7
BY wINIFRED WILLARD.

snort, SquaLCy ana DIT SlnlS-
ter. But he was something to re-
member. It was St. Louis, the tick
ct window of the Union station. l
rushed for tickets. Ominous line
ahead. Nothing to do but take my
place and wait my turn. Through
slow fifteen minutes, we had inched
along until | stood second from the
ticket agent. AS the one ahead
took his change and stepped from
line, this other man slid in ahead
of me. 1T is my turn" said.
Looking me full in the face, he
leered, well, what you going to
do about it?"
might have tried what the woan-
an in Washington did one matinee
afternoon last winter. It was Christ
mas time. We were to see Little
Women" Our hearts were in the
proper state of sublimination for re-
newing acquaintance with Beth and
10 and Meg and Mother March. But
office furniture moving in and heavy
pedestrian traffic broke the box Of
flee line. We stopped to see where
it really was, then stepped into what
we supposed was our proper place.
No sooner done than a militant
woman hurtled herself at us-didn't
we know we belonged at the end of
the line? Who did we think we were
to break in like that? Why didn't
we stay at home until we knew
how to get into a line? Efforts to
explain our right intentions fell flat
in the face of her wrath. I wonder
whether this TRADING woman has a
husband. If so, the Lord have
mercy on his soul!
Manners
We were all in a hurry to get
our letters one day last summer and
to be in our seats before the morn
ing symphony began. Eight ahead
of me was man. Down the plaza,
up the steps we moved with the
measured pace of such queue. My
eighth-ahead man was all right un-
til at distance he saw somebody
whom he wanted to see close range.
So, saying that he guessed his mail
could wait, he left his place in the
line. We brisked up, considerably
encouraged. He found his friend,
delivered his message, chatted with
half a dozen others, then came
back to the letter line and as if by
merit of right, stepped into his for
mer placer He knew better. He
showed the embarrassment that
goes with doing trick like that.
We were well hammered group.
Nobody said a word. But who can
deny there was heap O. thinkin'?
Isn't line a section of life? Isn't
line stage where we, play our
parts, informally and often I'M
aware? And aren't we revealing of
our inmost selves in the ways we
play? Have more right to take
your place in the line of life, than to
rifle your purse? Neither belongs
to me.
Life Gives Us Much
One of the lovely things life gives
us is place, each for himself, to
make what he may of it. Some peo-
pie make beauty spots out of their
life places. Some let theirs stay
all dreary and bare, putting no plan,
no thought, no work, no love into
them. Whatever my place is in
life's line, it's mine! And that is
muchl decide by the way l ham
die it whether it shall be insight
icant or something greatly to be de-
sired.
Good fortune to somebody else
often devours us with envy. l. had
two college mates like that. To this
day, they can't endure to know that
anything fine and gracious has come
to anybody else. They want their
places in the line to be the best and
themselves to be the biggest. Of
course they're unhappy. Of course
they're difficult. Of course they're
lonely.
Box office, railroad ticket or mail
delivery waiting lines have their
unwritten ethics to the end of an
even chance for everybody. The
line of life is not so simple. It often
gets tangled and twisted, sometimes
all but out of hand. But in it,
have my place. If yours is better,
! can take that as example and
standard by which to make mine
measure up. l can work hard and
be loyal and fair and faithful in my
own place. And shall not break
the rule of the line by taking what
does not belong to me.
Copyright. -WNU Service.