Evening Republican, Volume 21, Number 35, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 19 February 1918 — When Khaki Calls [ARTICLE]

When Khaki Calls

By M. E. Stanton

(Copyright. McClure N«w«pap«r Syndicate-J It was evening and the big office buildings were discharging their quota of humanity, who, though still in workaday garb, stepped forth briskly into the crisp autumn air, conscious that the chains of toil were loosened for a few brief hours and that they were free to play, relax and to take their little parts in the comedies and tragedies of social life. Ann Donovan w;as one of a group of animated, chattering girls that emerged from one of these immense beehives of industry. They lingered for a moment on the sidewalk, laughing and talking, then scattered on their various homeward ways. Ann started off, but had only gone a few feet when a quick step sounded behind her and a pleasant masculine voice said: “Hullo, Ann! What’s your hurry?” It was annoying. Why would Tommy insist on waiting for her every evening? Of course he was pleasant company, and all that, but —well, a girl likes to dream sometimes, and that walk home in the evening, along the quiet, shaded streets, was the only bit of time out of the whole busy day she might have for herself. “Good evening, Mister Regan,” Ann managed to respond, taking a certain satisfaction In using her most formal prunes-and-prisms tone, usually reserved for impertinent salesmen or persistent book agents who invaded the office. “Why so distant, Acushla? Doesn’t Tommy sound good to you any more? That mister stuff doesn’t listen natural cornin’ from you to me.” And the cheerful Tommy softly hummed: “Pack up your troubles in your old kit bag. And smile, smile, smile!" “Them’s my sentiments every time. Fellow that wrote that song must have been a real fellow. One who knows that a smile makes the digging easier, whether you’re digging with a shovel, or a pen or a —a sword." Tommy’s voice faltered a little on the last word, and he gazed a trifle anxiously and uncertainly at his silent companion. “Er—Ann, there’s something I’ve been wanting to tell you, and I don’t see wfcy I mightn’t as well tell you now.” Ann. was panic-stricken. Why could not Tommy be satisfied with things as they were and not begin treading on dangerous ground. Besides —and this was the real reason —a certain resentment had been lurking in the background of Ann’s mind for some time with reference to this same Tommy Regan. How could he sit tamely behind a desk and watch other fellows, dozens of them, marching away to “Carry the starry banner over seas?” Tommy was a strapping, stalwart youth, clean-cut and pleasing to the eye. Aggressive and intelligent, he had in him the making of a splendid American soldier. But he had not enlisted when the nation-wide call for volunteers went forth, nor had the long arm of con-» scription as yet reached out for him. He and Ann had never directly discussed the subject. It was constantly in Ann’s thoughts; but a certain hesitancy had prevented her from introducing the topic, and though she had skated dangerously close at’ times, for all of Tommy’s unfailing cheerfulness and Apparent willingness to chat on anything and everything under the sun, somehow he had never given her a clue as to his real reason for putting himself in the slacker class. Ann herself was an ardent patriot. Fifteen dollars a week is not a munificent sum, but when a girl lives at home the stretching qualities of even a meager fifteen dollars are remarkable. So by dint of wearing her last season’s suit, by studiously keeping her head turned the other way when passing an ice-cream parlor, by sundry small economies and self-denials constantly practiced the world over by thousands of working girls, she was able to buy a Liberty bond, to join the Red Cross and to contribute her mite to various special funds for the benefit of “Our Boys.” She was even now learning to knit In the “From Pothooks to Knitting Needles” class recently launched at the office. So when Tommy announced In that serious tone that he had something to tell her, she mentally besought her patron saint to ward off the imminent proposal without hurting the lad’j feelings or destroying their friendship. For, after all, thought Ann, they had grown up together as neighbors, and there had always been a friendly feeling between the two families, though of late years the social intercourse had been confined chiefly to the young people save for an occasional ’cross-the-fence chat between Mrs. Regan and Ann’s mother. They were on a quiet side street now and her prayer seemed hopeless when, just as Tommy started to resume his confidence, the heaven-sent Interrupt tion occurred. The interruption was just a pair of lovers strolling along arm in arm —a scene old as the ages, yet ever interestingly new to observed •a well as to observers. The youth

was clad in khaki and be carried himself with a jaunty, conscious air of pride that found eager reflection in the admiring maid at his side. Ann and Tommy turned to look after them. Who can resist a backward glance at a pair of lovers? “Oh !” sighed Ann, “doesn’t he look splendid?” And then valor tweaked discretion’s ears and rushed into the fray. “How can you stay at home and let folks call you a slacker, when all these brave fellows are giving up their homes, their work —yes, even their lives, to make our homes, our work and our lives safe? You’ve told me before that you loved rife, but I don’t want to hear you say it again, for I’ll never marry a slacker. Never! Oh, how I wish I had been a man!” And to Tommy’s consternation Ann started to cry. He waited until her. sobs had ceased, then said: “But look here, Ann, I want to tell you—•" * • “Oh, what’s the use of arguing about it now?” queried Ann wearily. “There’s only one way for a man —a. strong, healthy young fellow like you —to prove his patriotism. If you won’t do it, your friends can’t force you to.” This was the proper cue for a dignified exit, and as at this precise moment they reached the front gate of Ann’s home she murmured a brief “good night" and left him abruptly. Tommy’s voice, still maddeningly cheerful, called after her: “If you happen to steel like the movies tonight, darllnt, dogt forget my ’phone number.” W And Ann could hear him tramping up his own front steps whistling: “Keep the home fires burning.” “Yes, you’ll keep them burning all right,” she spitefully apostrophized him, as she entered the house and clammed the door with a vigorous bang that brought her mother hurrying from the dining room, where supper w r as just sending forth Its savory invitation. . V “Why, dearie, you came In like a cyclone. No villain pursuing you. Is there?” And Mrs. Donovan laughed expectantly, for she and this only daughter of hers were chums and shared a sense of rich Irish humor. “Nothing, mother. Tm just a little tired and hungry, I guess, and supper smells so good. I’m ready, if it is.” “All right. But, Ann, did you hear about Tommy Regan? His mother was over this afternoon and told me about it. She cried and cried, but she’s so proud of him, and she says he’s so anxious to go, and —” “What, mother? Tommy hasn’t —” “Enlisted! Yes, he has,” exclaimed Mrs. Donovan,’ dabbing’ at a furtive tear with the corner of her apron. “That’s just what Tommy has gone and done. She told me all about how he’s felt ever since this war started; how it hurt him to see the other fellows marching off when he had to stay at home.” “Well, did he have to stay at home?” interrupted Ann. “Of course I know it would leave his mother alone, but Mr. Regan must have left quite a lot of money when he died.” “But he didn’t,” exclaimed her mother. “Everyone thought so, but It appears that he speculated heavily, not only with his own money, but with some "that had been Intrusted to his care. His sudden death was a result of the shock of losing everything, and Tommy, who was just starting out to make his way in the world, promised his father that he would see that the funds which had been misused were replaced, though it took years of selfdenial on his part. His mother .says he has stuck manfully to his premise and has done everything possible to restore his father’s honor, but it seemed such, a hopeless task.” Mrs. Donovan paused for breath. “Go on, mother,” prompted Ann. “Well, what do you think? Some of that mining stock has turned out to be valuable after all. There wasn’t any gold in the mines, but they have found something else —tungsten, I believe It Is called —that Is worth nearly as much. Anyway, they can pay off all their debts and Tommy will know that his mother is well taken care of, even if he's away off In France. She said after he made sure he didn’t waste a minute getting down to the recruiting headquarters.” Ann started for the telephone. “Where are you going?” asked her mother, with the kindly Inquisitiveness of those near and dear. Ann looked around the cozy living room with a speculative eye. “Tommy wanted me to'call him up. But I wonder if we wouldn’t rather stay at home than go downtown tonight? I’m kind of tired of the movies myself.”