Jasper County Democrat, Volume 21, Number 87, Rensselaer, Jasper County, 29 January 1919 — “Sophisticated Billy” [ARTICLE+ILLUSTRATION]

“Sophisticated Billy”

By LOUISE OLIVER

(Copyright, ISIS, by McClure Newspaper Syndicate.) ' I Billy Crawford was tired and wanted a rest. It had been an Intensely busy winter at the plant, with every wheel turning and every man working, and now that the warm, languorous days of spring had come he decided that he needed a vacation. So he called on Eleanor Gage one evening to bid her good-by and to impart the news that -he was going to New York “for a time.” "What do you call a ‘time,’ Billy?” ■he asked. He flicked the ash from his cigarette. . A “Well," he answered, with a man-of-the-world air, “it means to the sophisticated a Wtind of pleasure. The usual thing, you know —shows, restaurants, roof gardens this time of the year, and So forth. Lots of prefty, well-dressed women, people you get along wefl with fl! "you’re the right sort, and all that. Dickie* Merrick and I usually hung out together. Dick knows scads of people. I’m to meet him at the Glltmore.” Eleanor counted her stitches before ■he answered. ■'But just now, Billy, do you think It’s the thing?" He regarded her with tolerant amusement. “I suppose you mean the war. You rather have a sneaky idea I ought to enlist, haven't you, Nellie?" “Oh, it isn’t exactly that. I just think it’s not good taste to throw away money foolishly when it’s so badly needed elsewhere.” “Well, maybe it looks like fiddling while Rome burns, but I’ve earned the

right to have a good time. I’ve worked all winter on war stuff —what more do you want?” “The boys in the camps have worked all winter, too, Billy. And they’re not getting any rest now, or prospect of rest with France ahead.” He threw away his cigarette impatiently, and then he said a mean tiling. "That’s what it is to live in a small. town. You girls are like every one else; you get one idea in your head and you can’t get it out. That’s what I’m going to New York so get away from knitting ami lied Cross and Liberty bond fiends and war talk. I’m going where people understand, where they have a broader view and don’t think you’re a criminal if you have a little fun.” Then Eleanor Waxed righteously angry. Forgotten was the sock which fell unheeded along with the ball of yarn at her feet. • “Then, if living in New York means to forget the war and our boys over there for one instant. I’m glad I am a small-town girl. And, although just now you don’t seem especially anxious for my answer to a certain question you asked me a week or so ago, I’m going to tell you now that I won’t marry you. You’re a slacker.” Billy left at that, Crestfallen. He really hadn’t meant to get into it so deep. Besides, he really did care for Eleanor’s opinion, and he cargd for her a great deal; but he had to confess that the glamour of his trip ahead aoftened the sorrow of losing her very considerably. Besides, he thought she might change her mind by the time he got back - . z The next day William R. Seymour registered at the big metrojwHtyn hotel and waited for Richaril MerNck, who arrived in the course of a iyw hours, and proceeded to tell his troubles to his friend. „ “I say. Bill, has your town gone nuts . on the war?” "Has it?” whistled Billy. y “I’m hanged if I’m not glad to get jßway,” went on Dickie. “A fellow Ican’t buy himself a pack of fags any more without some Jane piping up and saying: ‘Wouldn’t you rather invest in War Savings stamps?’ Or some grandmother poking in with: ‘Half that, young man, would keep a Belgian child for one day.’ I did buy a bond. Now I wish they’d let me alone.” “Same here,” said Billy, gloomily. Then brightening: “But we’re wasting (time, old man. We’re here to forget. Let's call up me girls and get someIthing started.” , “The girls” cousins of Dick**, *|fery fashionable and up to date.

“All right. I’ll ring them now. Sny, Bill, did you ever see so uiuny soldiers in your life?” t “Never did. Nellie says they don’t get a rest. She ought to come to New York and find out. , I shouldn’t mind splurging round in a uniform myself." But William’s remark bad been overheard. An old gentleman at the next table leaned forward. * Then, young man, why don’t you? You can get one for nothing." Billy flushed and murmured something about doing war work. But the old man went on. "These soldiers and officers are leaving for overseas duty. Most of them go from the port of New York. The Englishmen and French soldiers are here on war work. Some of them off ships that carry our men over. They’re all here for a purpose, young man. And, if they tippear to splurge, surely tbgy ve earned the right. Why sbouljln t a man be proud of his uniform?”

Our friends left soon after. Leona Merrick herself answered ftielr call. “Oh, I’m so glnd you boys are here. I’m nearly dead with work and can’t got a soul to help, every one is so busy.. I've got two tons of stuff to take from our Red Cross unit to headquarters. I’m running n motor truck, you know, and you have saved my life. The boxes are too heavy for me to handle. I’ll run the ear around to the hotel and pick you up.” The two men looked at each other, but had nothing to say. Leona Merrick was very pretty. Of course they could not refuse. That night, tenderly nursing the blisters on their hands, they got ready for the theater. Things were looking up a bit. The whole jolly crowd was going, and their jaded spirits revived at the prospect. The play w’as Blanche Bates in "Getting Together,” a plea for men to join the army, an appeal that was an appeal. There was no after-theater supper as of old. “Don’t you want to hear Abbe Flynn tomorrow?” asked Jane Merrick. "We’re all going after surgical dressing class. They say he is wonderful.” Again Billy and Dick exchanged glances and again they accepted. At the end of a week, after hearing the bishop of York, Major Watt and Anne Morgan, they were ready to go home. They had changed —not their opinion of New York but of their own towns. When Eleanor opened the door to a very contrite Billy, he was in uniform. . “I come to ask you to forgive me, dear,” he said humbly. “I guess I had to have my eye-teeth cut on this war business. Well. I’ve cut ’em, dear. I see now I’ve got to go. You were right —I was a slacker.” “No, you’re not, Billy, dear.” declared Eleanor proudly. “It takes a brave igan to acknowledge when he's Wrong. I didn't mean what I said about the other, Billy, either. i'll marry you whenever you like.”

"Then, Young Man, Why Don’t You?”