Glacier County chief. [volume] (Browning, Mont.) 1931-1940, 1940-08-09

and hammering and jarring ma
chine.
Cecilia and Sheila moved through
it all rapidly, almost absent-minded-
ly. It was their native air; it had
environed them from babyhood.
This was merely winter evening.
an uninteresting one; Wednesday
night. Monday night was apt to be
tinged still with the memories of
Sundays relaxation and enjoyment;
Friday evening was definitely antic-
ipatory. Wednesday evening was
nothing.
The subway smelled of heat, ce-
ment, steam, heavily clothed, un-
clean bodies. A few passengers,
angry and vituperative, struggled
out of the trains sliding metal doors
as the girls and the home-going
crowd pushed in. Cecilia and Sheila
did not expect to be offered seats;
they did not wish to be. Getting
home was an equally dull perform
ance, whether one stood or sat, and
anyway the girls would have gen.
erously argued. 1.-THE boys are as
tired as we are"
"Going to tell your mother?"
asked Cecilia.
Sheila, as if their conversation in
the office had been uninterrupted,
answered TRANQUILITY:
mot right away. She'll kill me-"
II love your purse" Cecilia said.
81 wish you could have seen the
coat I could have gotten for twelve.
Twelve, mind you! I'll bet it cost
sixty. had her put it aside for
me. 1t was dark blue with a sort
of rolled collar. It was simply
grand" Sheila said.
She fell to musing. She hated the
word grand, thus misused. The nun
who had taught her English had al
ways corrected that way of en-
ploying the word. Coats were not
grand, movies were not swell, good
times were never simply elegant.
She thought of meeting Peter
when thus attired. Peter what? She
did not know his last name. She
could only think of him as Peter.
But there was not an hour of her
waking day when she did not re-
member the laughing face he had
brought down from his great height,
close to her own, his hard brown
hand cupping her chin, his lips meet
ing hers for a dizzying, drowning
eternity of moonlight and summer
night, against dim background Of
music from the Casino-waltz mu-
sic, and the ceaseless rustic and
swish of waves breaking on the
sand.
She was still in the dream when
Cecilia said suddenly, "Come on!"
and it was time to jam their way
out through the surge again, and
ascend the packed stairs to the icy
cold wind and darkness and blow
ing films of dirty snow on One Hun
dred and Forty-ninth Street. Both
girls were tired from the office day,
the assaulting cold wind, and the
Supplying, poisonous air of the un-
foreground railway. They did not
speak as they fought their way
about the worst corner of all, and
passed the crowded bright bakery
and the movie entrance, away from
the racket of the elevated train.
Then, when they were passing the
dark portals Of the church, Cecilia
made faint inclination of her head
toward them.
"Want to 60 in for a minute?"
Sheila urged her on. The wind was
bad now, and speaking an effort.
II think Mamma'n probably make
me come with her to the Mission!"
she shouted, and Cecilia did not con-
test it. They went on for three
more blocks, made a last turning,
and entered the house that was
home for both, and for thirty-eight
other families.
Above the three Clipped brown
stone steps from the dirty street,
where garbage cans, newspapers,
tins of ashes and bundles of rubbish
were all frozen into a permanent
fringe on the sidewalk, were dou-
BILE doors framing cold, tiled foyer
walls lined with bells and mail
boxes. A dimly lighted hallway be-
yond was completely unfinished
except for worn brown linoleum, and
perhaps a dozen shabby baby car
riages chained to the iron stairway
rails. There were hundred chill
dren in the tenement, a third Of
them not yet old enough to walk.