Judge — January 27, 1923 — page 11: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

t 1 Honors Are Even (Continued from page 5) an feel the thrill of Why can’t weren’t we happy? I it now as you look at me! we * “Not so fast! You are again the lover! You are so impulsive! “But it’s an honest impulse, Bessi His voice vibrated, even though it was low. He was either a clever actor, or it was real emotion. “Wait. If your memory is so vivid, Egbert, you will recall the night we said au revoir— “Recall it!” He seemed for the mo- ment far away. “In that) wonderful grove, after our ride, we plighted troth and promised—’ “Oh, yes, I know. You promised to write to me daily.” “And you promised the same, Bessie! And you also promised to marry me.” “But you never wrote at all!” Billington was plainly embarrassed. “Bessie, in the joy of finding you again I forgot to tell you what I should have told you the moment I saw you. My emotion put it out of mind. I lost your address!” “Truly?” “Truly. You will remember when we came in that night—that night of such precious memories—that I put it down in my book. And I lost the book!” ighed softly. “What a strang “It was. ten me!” She laughed again. “But what I meant I also ! What a coincidence!” He looked unbelief. “It . strange!” “But it is true!) And at this moment it seems awfully funny!” She saw that this hurt him, and touched his hand, reform- ing her expression to one of sympathy. “It is tragedy! But now, Bessie. now “Oh, things always change, you know. It is strange, but they really do.” “Women change, I know!” His tone was bitter. But you might have writ- Gi was, sympathetic again, and he smiled in hope. “If you had writt . Egbert, it might have been different. I'm not positive.” ease don’t look at me so ardently! ant to introduce you to some one.” She indicated a handsome chap in flannels approaching with tennis racket. “Oh!” Billington arose. John, please meet Mr. Billington—an old friend of mine. Mr. Billington, my husband, Mr. Nettleton.” The men shook hands with a show of cordiality, but Billington quickly excused himself on the plea that he had forgotten to send a wire “Billington the vacant chair. ettleton asked, taking “Known him long, Bess? “I knew him but casually more than three years ago, and had not seen him since “What's his first name? And his busi- ness?” “Egbert. a large scale. “New Yorker?” I believe he’s an importer on % Ing 97 Soy wag Sy In a Garden by Arthur Guiterman Illustration by B. Antzinasnerr Tie tars are eve ‘Among the le: Those elfin scamps the fireflies covers, “with glinting lamps Betray the deeds of lovers. Beneath the rose the glowworm lows, The friendly dark dispelling; And ask th not of whom « what The crickets may be telling! Though gates be locked and paths forbid, The ways of Love can noi be hid! “But, J are you so curious? Yes, I believe he is a New Yorker.” ame chap, I'll wager.” What do you mean? “Well, an importer named Egbert Billington caused quite a sensation in London last winter. Had a row in the Hotel Cecil with an actor over a dancer. And he married the dancer.” sae Madge—I'm sorry I forgot to invite you to my party. . Ethel—Why, did you have a party? 9 Wie an O.D. was making his munds he came across a_ fellow sleeping in one of the boats during work- ing hours. When the O.D. woke him up he said: “Levy, go down to the ship- writer’s and put yourself on report.” About an hour later the same officer came across Levy again and asked him if he put himself on report. Levy re- plied: “No, sir.” “Why not?” “I thought I'd give myself another chance.”