United States or Algeria ? Vote for the TOP Country of the Week !
They have cradled weariness of body and spirit; they have assuaged grief and given refuge to shaking terror, and been visited by Death. They have shivered to the passion of cursing men and weeping women. But never before had any of their ilk heard grown young manhood blubber. Neither had Mayme McCartney. It inspired her with mingled emotions, the most immediate of which was a desire to laugh.
As Mayme McCartney observed that smile with the shrewd judgment of men which comes early, in self-protection, to girls of her environment, the suspicion and impudence died out of her face, which became wistful. "D'you think it means anything?" she asked. "Any cough means something. I couldn't tell without examination." "How much?" inquired the cautious Mayme.
"It wouldn't do. It really wouldn't. He isn't worth it. You're going to forget him." "All right." Suddenly Mayme looked like a very helpless and sorrowful little girl. "Only, it it isn't goin' to be as easy as you think. He was so pretty," said Mayme McCartney wistfully.
Mary was aching to thank him, but had a dreadful fear that if she tried to, she would cry. She didn't want to cry. She had a feeling that crying would be a highly unstrategic procedure leading to possible alarming developments. Why didn't David say something? Finally he did make a beginning. "Mayme." "No: not 'Mayme' any more." He flushed to his temples. "I beg your pardon, Miss Courtenay."
"It must be lovely to be rich," said the Bonnie Lassie meditatively. "And so generous!" "How much is it? What do you want it for? I haven't got that much," I hastily remarked. "And to keep it an absolute secret from everybody. Even from Mayme herself." "Go on. Don't mind me," I murmured. "The Little Red Doctor has found the place. It's in New Mexico. And in the fall she's going on to the Coast.
The Little Red Doctor grinned, looking first at Mayme and then at the dollar. "You aren't such a bad sport yourself," he admitted. "Well, we'll call this a deal. But if I see you in the Square and give you a tip about yourself now and again, that doesn't count. That's on the side. Understand?" She considered it gravely. "All right," she agreed at length. "Between pals, yes? Shake, Doc."
"Nonsense!" she said softly. "Mary. I've discarded the 'Mayme' long ago." "Mary," he repeated in a tone of musing content. "Buddy." He caught his breath. "A few thousand of the best guys in the world," he said, "call a fellow that. And every time they said it, it made my heart ache with longing to hear it in your voice." "You're a queer Buddy," returned the girl, not quite steadily.
Those who live in the close, rough intimacy of the slums do not cherish false shame about the major facts of life. "Suppose she has?" queried the youth sulkily. "Why, that'll be all right, you poor boob," returned the kindly Mayme. "The judge'll let her off with a warning." "How do you know?" "They always do. Those cases are common.
About that time we, in common with the rest of the Nation, took that upon our minds which was even more important than Mayme McCartney's love affair. War loomed imminently before us. It was only a question of the fitting time to strike; and Our Square was feverishly reckoning up its military capacity. The great day of the declaration came. The Nation had drawn the sword.
The Little Red Doctor fell suddenly grave. "She's another matter," he said. "I don't think I shall." Matters were going forward with Mayme beg her pardon, Mary McCartney, too. "Better and more of it," she wrote the Bonnie Lassie. "They rang me in on one of their local Red Cross shows to do a monologue. Was I a hit? Say, I got more flowers than a hearse!
Word Of The Day