10-Story Book, July 1931 — page 13: what you’re looking at

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

10-STORY BEGINS ITS 30TH SUCCESSFUL YEAR! 11 (Continued from page 8) lamp opposite. There had been trouble in the house with the lamp. The Street echoed with it. Groups of women stood or sat, some laughing openly, others pitying. Mrs. Blissful alone sat silent, and as she watched the years rolled backwards through her mind. ees. ae Backwards, to a summer evening in 1916. Mrs. Blissful and her crony, Mrs. Mason, stood at the end of the Street, hatless, wear- ing clean aprons, with their shawls worn loosely around them. Mrs. Mason had jet black eyes, black hair, and highly colored cheeks. She looked, and was, the type of woman that Mrs. Blissful too was, but did not look to be. According to rumor, they both had husbands—somewhere—no one but themselves knew where, if indeed they knew themselves. The children which, in the day time, played about the Street, bore various surnames according to their male parentage —not in itself of course a strictly legal pro- ceeding, but who cares about a trifle like that? Two soldiers passed, and the women halted for the merest fraction in their con- versation. Mrs. Blissful smiled, and her gentle eyes looked wistful. “Home on leave?” she queried. “Yes!” The men stopped, obviously glad of something to break the monotony of their walk. “It is good of you to speak to us!” said one of them, some twenty minutes later, “Some women are that queer!” “Oh, well, of course,” said Mrs. Blissful, smoothing her apron with work-soiled hands, “We should not dream of speaking to any- body in ordinary times, but soldiers are dif- ferent. It is only kind to take a bit of in- terest in them, especially when our own chaps are out at the Front. I’m sure,” she continued sententiously, “I’d be thankful to anybody who’d do the boss a kindness. What about coming in and having a bite of sup- per?” “Can you manage it, what with rationing and all?” : “Oh: we'll find a snack somewhere. We manage to sneak a bit in sometimes, don’t we, Lizzie? Know a grocer who does us a good turn now and again.” The men turned in. Mrs. Blissful pro- duced food, beer, and still more beer. “By jove, missis, you’re a wonder, you are!” Mrs. Blissful smiled; she knew that already. A little later: “You're looking right tired,” she sug- gested, “Why not lie down on’t couch, whilst Lizzie and me tidies up’t supper things? There’s another couch in’t sitting-room where you can go and lay, me boy”’ she con- tinued, turning to the younger man. They were heavy with the beer, and were only too glad to fall in with the suggestion. An hour later, each man half-awakened to find a woman shaking him vigorously. “Wake up, man! It’s nearly time for you to be at the barracks!” Sleepy and only half- comprehending, the men obeyed, and the women escorted them to the end of the Street, wishing them “Good Luck” with much hilarity. | When they reached the house once more, Mrs. Blissful took down a vase from the mantlepiece. “How much?” asked Mrs. Mason, as the other emptied the contents on to the table. “About four pound ten,” said Mrs. Blissful, counting. “Ah, well! It’s not a fortune, but it’ll keep us going for a bit.” “Aye! And there’ll probably be some more tomorrow—only we must watch the same ones don’t come by again.” “Oh, well: If they do, we’ve never seen them afore. We've only to call the bobby down if they annoy us. He'll shift them on fast enough. Anyway, by the time they get ecomicboooks.co mn