Richmond Palladium (Daily), Volume 33, Number 85, 10 May 1908 — Page 9

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"T HAT machine : Why, that's the Per kinses' "Bui. i saw Mm out In a different one yesterday." "Oh, yes; big touring car? That's his old one. Buying this one, or renting it, I suppose. He's developed acute motormania." "1 don't know how he had enough money." "Well, it doesn't take all the money in the world, no.wadays, to buy an auto. He's got a chauffeur, too. ' Hut though everyone doubted Perkins' ability to support, a touring-car een larger than his family, no one doubted for a moment that he owned the car in which he rode daily. Yet the fact was, he didn't even own the spark-plug, for Perkins as a "joy-rider'" the most modern manifestation or the "dead beat.'' Perkins fell into this iniqultoug practice through envy of his neighbor, Klocke, who was the proud owner of a 20-h.p., and the downward path was as smooth and simple as an asphalt grade. Klocke had no more money than Perkins, yet the rivalry between the two families was so great that Mrs. Klocke never sported a more gorgeou3 featner than Mrs. Perkins for more than two days; and therefore when Klocke bought an automobile the Perkins family was tempted and it fell. It was one night about a week after Klocke made hs purchase that Mrs. Perkins sighed so bitterly that her husband looked up quickly from his afterdinner newspaper. "What is it, love?" he queried: Klocke addressed his wife simply, "dear." "1 was wondering. Papa Perkins, if if we couldn't vent an automobile for a ride Sunday," aha ventured, laying stress upon her pronunciation ot ' automobill '- after the manner of Mrs. Klocke. "Why, why, Jove, in in our circumstances it 'would er rather tend to cripple us. You know they charge twenty-five dollars a day?" apologized hvr husband, evading his wile's direct gaze. "You know, Papa Perkins, there are others in Tio better circumstances (han we who have automobiles of their very own," emphasized Mrs. Perkins. "I daresay; yes I daresay, ' he responded uneasily, resuming his newspaper. "Well, then, why in the name of" Bzzzzz-Bzzzzz-Bz.zzz "I'll answer ;t, love," interrupted the head of the house; and lie muttered a prayer of thanksgiving for his sudden delhery, as ho took up the (receiver. Mrs. Perkins sat. with knitted brow and knotted hands. She was only in a way appeased. Her husband's voice at the phono roused her Jrom her reverie she listened she listened more Intently. A smile began to play about the corners of her mouth the nervous fingers straightened out she smoothed out her puckered forehead and i "low spread complacently over her countenance, 1 nig into a smile that endured. hen Perkins hung up the receiver he turned vi th a triumphant laugh, which was echoed by an exclamation of delight from his wife, who rushed to his side and was shaking him by the shoulders in her enthusiasm. '"So we whall have the ride, after all,'' she cried. "Oh, won t it be splendid to have an automobile lor a whole day ?" 'Yes, love, it will be groat," beamed Perkins. 'Wilder, the man who sold Klocke his machine, cays he's got in a new shipment -a later model nd a tar better machine than the. one he sold 3locke. He -he took Klocke out ever;-- day for 2i ho nt three weeks befort he finally sold him the B'.iaehine. Maybe be ll do the same with us. ' "Oh-hhh, oh-hhh, wouldn't it he just just lie.ivenly to have an automobil! every day?" said Irs. Perkins."' And a better one than the Klooke's, too! " it won't be so bad." mused Mr. Perkins. "Guess Tny family can ride in an auto as well as Klocke's. And it won t cost nie a cent, either, that's the beauty of the whole thing; it was Wilder's invitation Bind ' didn't even have to say that 1 was thinking rot haying a car. ' Sunday came and so did Wilder; in a huge, puffing, touring car. Mrs. Perkins swept out of the liouse in a stunning auto veil, carrying a long wrap BuJ automobile coat, and sprang magnificently into the machine. Her husband followed with the three little Perkinses. ' t was a wonderful ride! They met everybody liny knew, and Mrs. Perkins bowed to her Boulevard friends with the slight condescension of the ir.otoriit. But it was not until they were on their vay home that the full triumph of the day was Italizid. They met the Klocke family, whose lr.ouths simultaneously opened in amazement as the Perkinses passed. "What a dinky little machine Klocke's is," said Mrs. Perkins. The following day Wilder sent the same mathin around to take Mr. Perkins down to the office His wife accompanied him and, after dropring ferkins, made a tour of the shopping district, and stopped at every possible store, although the did not purchase anything. Re fore the week was over nearly every auto (dealer n town had noticed that Wild, r was trying to sel' a new customer, and every day different makes ol machines were placed at the disposal o'' the wilting Perkins and his more than willing wife. n fact no one ever entered into the spirit of a real "joy-rider" with more enthusiasm than did Jlrs. 'i i kin. I evkins, too, was Intoxicated with the experience. Ho patronized the various chauffeurs who were sen; around to him, and every night he doliVruteii in his othec for ten minutes trying to decide in which ot the machines that stood by the curb lie should ride home. for three weeks this state of affairs continued. Several auto salesmen were disgusted by Perkins' persistency in not making a choice, and departed from the ranks. Others hung Qut. forcing their cars upon him. Among these was Wilder, who succeeded in getting the prospective customer to ride in his machine every day: and his car. too, was the preference of Mrs. Perkins being of the same make as Klocke's only larger. It was the bulldog tenacity in Wilder which caused the neighbors to believe that Perkins had Teally bought a machine, and that the chauffeur drew his pay from the recognised owner. Indeed, it had all come about so easily that Perkins almost expected a raise in salary in recognition of his prominer.ee in the motor world. "Let's take the isiockes out riding in Wilder's machine." Mrs. Poi K;ns suggested one day; "they think it ours, and tney know it's better than their owu. It will be such fun. You know, they just can't refuse, for we have so often accepted invitations to ride in their car." The madness was still on rerklns, and he greeted the Idea with enthusiasm. Consequently, the Klockes were invited and accepted; and Wilder was called up and requested to send his machine and chauffeur the next da" -t " 1 - --"all party.

PALLAD

Perkins was rubbing his hands joyously when the car drove up the following morning "Oh, you're a new man, are you?" he asked the chauffeur in an indulgent voice. "Yes, just started this mornin'," vouchsafed the driver whose gogles and huge feature gave him. the odd appearance of a deep-sea diver. Mrs. Perkins swept down the walk with her habitual elegance, and setting herself proudly in the tar, glanced at the new man at the wheel and remarked. "Oh, you're a nw chauffeur -well, J do hope you will be careful and not take ihe corners too fast. I am so nervous with a new driver. 1 wish John were driving the car as usual. He was very careful." "I'll be careful, mum." growled the new man. Mrs. Klocke had dressed up for the occasion, and the neighborly competition was well supported on both sides. Both she and her husband seemed uneasy from the very start; whether it was that the Perkins' machine was superior to theirs, or that they didn't like the chauffeur, one could not tell. - They followed the Boulevard and sped along an hour, until they chugged out into the exclusive residential district, where all interest was centered upon the handsome apartments which they were passing. "Wonderful places, aren't they," mused Perkins. "I haven't been Inside any of the newest ones; they say that the latest wrinkle is to have elevators in the rear for automobiles, to take them up to the various floors." "Oh, yes. we have seen tbein," remarked Klocke, with a glance at the chauffeur, who seemed to take an unwarranted interest in the conversation. "()h; yes, we have seen them." echoed his wife. "Would you like to see 'em, sir?" the driver questioned Perkins. "Why, yes, my good man, I said 1 would," replied Perkins haughtily; and his wife craned her net k to have a look at the impertinent chauffeur. "Well, the reason I asked, sir, is because Mr. Wilder lives in one of these here apartments, an' he told me this mornin', sir, I could take anybody up his elevator that wanted to see it,' continued

"NOT ONE OV YOU GETS OUT the chauffeur. His apartments ain't far from here. I'll take you there if you want." "Why yes, you might do that,'' said Perkins magnificently. "I don't care to see it again,' broke out Mrs. Klocke, quite rudely. 'No, they're very tame," agreed Klocke. "Well, of course we won't see the auto elevators then, if you don't want to, but I should really like very much to see them myself," ventured Mrs. Perkins in a cutting tone. "Oh. if you really want to se them we shall be only too willing to go with you, although 1 assure you they are hardly worth looking at," offered Mr. Klocke. "We're right in front of Mr. Wilder's apartment now, sir; shall I take the machine around and show you the elevator?" put in the chauffeur. "Why. yes," decided the patronizing Perkins, "now that we are right here we might as well go in as not." So, although Mrs. Klocke had an ugly look in her eyes when she glared at her uneasy husband, they went in at Wilder's drive. The machine was steered straight on to the platform and the chauffeur started the elevator, which, with slow jerks, ascended until it reached the fourth floor. Here the chauffeur stopped it, and opening the door, drove the machine into the garage. Stepping back he released the elevator and sent it down. "What what are you doing that for, my good man? We just wanted to ride up, we don't care to stay here.'' Perkins informed him. With a dexterous motion, the chauffeur whipped off his gogles. pushed back his cap, tugged at his mustache a moment, pulled them off. and faced the astonished little group in the auto with a winning smile. "Why Wilder!" burst out Perkins, with mingled perplexity and uneasiness. "Just a little joke," laughed Wilder. "Wanted to give you people a little, novelty, make the ride more enjoyable, you see." "Oh, how delightful, what a pleasant surprise." warbled Mr. Perkins. The Klocke's stood looking on glumly , occasionally casting significant glances in the direction of each other.. "Thought you might be hungry when you sot this far." explained the affable auto salesman, "so I concluded to stop in here and give you a little refreshment. You'll find a buffet luncheon all set out on the table right in here. Iet's go in. Please make yourselves perfectly at home." He ushered the party into the apartment: then, with a sudden thought, intercepted: "By the way. Perkins, just a moment, there is a new attachment on a machine here I want to show you. The rest will excuse us just a moment. Well be right back. Make yourselves perfectly at home." He pulled the smiling Perkins back into the garage and they started toward the machine. With a cat-like motion, the auto-salesman darted back to the door, inserted a key noiselessly, and turned the lock. "Now, we haven't much time." he breathed, turning to Terkins, whose smile was freezing orhis face. "Just sign this little mortgage or. your house.

LASSIflEO

please, and we will rejoin the company." "What? What what's this for?' gasped Perkins, snatching the paper. ""To pay for the machine, ' Wilder enlightened him. firmly. ""But 1 haven't bought the machine." "No but you will. ' "I won't," screamed Perkins. "Oh, yes, you will," came the decisive reply. "But how how can you make me?" "I've got you in here as safe as in a jail. I've got the rest of the party locked up in the other room, and not one of you get3 out until this paper is signed. ' "'But " gasped Perkins. "Everybody thinks it's your machine; I can get fifty witnesses who will say that you have told them it was yours, " the salesman went on. "You've imposed upon me and you know It. I'll fix you if you don't buy it. I'll tell everybody all about it, and that you promised to buy it and then didn't, because you didn't have a cent. Oh, It's very esay. I can fix it all right.'1 "You wouldn't do that you wouldn't do that. Wilder," implored Perkins. "Oh, yes I would," with depressing assurance, "I'll do even worse than that." The more the "joy-rider" resisted the more the salesman insisted. "Time's fiyig," broke out Wilder at length; "sign this and we'll go in and join the party. The Klockes are probably suspicious of something already." A knock was heard on the door.

"When are you people ever coming Mrs. Perkins at the crack. "Haven't that attachment yet? Hurry up and fix in?" cried you fixed it or there won't br anything left to eat." "Better do as she says," suggested Wilder. Perkins' head was bowed in thought. He knew Wilder's power. What would people think? What would the Klockes say? What oh, it was an awful predicament. "I'll ko to the door and tell the Klockes what the whole trouble is, right now,'" suggested WildUNTIL THIS PAPER IS SIGNED. - er, as another impatient rap was heard at the door. "Ohj no don't don't: ' groaned Perkins in an agonized frenzy. "Then sign the mortgage." "All all right,' murmured Perkins, weakly, "but you give me an agreement first that you'll never breathe a word of this to any one." Wilder scratched out the agreement with a flourish, while his companion weakly affixed his signature to the mortgage. The knocks increased on the door; Wilder shouted pleasantly that they were coming, the two exchanged papers and glances and joined the party. The trip home was a most peculiar one. Klocke and his wife acted strangely. Perkins was sullen. Wilder was the life of the party, the only natural one in it. As the machine, at last, pulled up in front of the Klocke residence, the guests alighted and thanked their host and his wife still in a curiously strained manner. "You don't seem to've enjoyed the ride, Perkins, as much as we did." remarked Klocke. "Possibly that attachment for the automobill. which Mr. Wilder showed him, was too much for him," ventured Mrs. Klocke spitefully. "Well, I hope you get over it without any permanently bad effects," offered her spouse. Perkins stared at them and then glared at Wilder. Wilder glared back. "Why, what was the matter with the Klockes?" queried the unsuspecting wife, as Perkins helped her out of the machine at home. "I'll tell you when I get back, growled her husband. "I'm going over to the garage with Wilder." As soon as the machine had started again. Perkins turned on Wilder and hissed, "You're a sneak. You broke your word to me." "Why, how's that? What do you mean?" gasped the other, astonished. "I've got your agreement that you wouldn't say a word to anybody about our er our little transaction." "But 1 didn't: the Klockes must have guessed it, that's all," Wilder defended himself. "That's absurd," sneered Perkins, "why. they even tried to save me from going up in that infernal elevator; if they had known they would have been only too glad to have me go up to your place and get into this cursed mess." "Maybe they did know and didn't want you to get a bigger and better car than theirs," suggested Wilder. "Well, If they didn't know it. you told them," snapped Perkins. "But I didn't tell them, or hint to them, or give them a sign of any kind that I sold you the car in the way I did.' protested the salesman, becoming heated. "Well, then, how did they know? Can you tell me that?" retorted Perkins, with a triumphant sneer. "Why yes," bellowed Wilder, "if yolu are so blamed doubtful I'll tell you." "What is It. then?" "Why. that's the way I sold Klocke his car?"

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g AN ARTISTIC a TEMPERAMENT i

a n u g By h Charlotte Wilson. BBBngaaoD DoannnnnnannaDD Copyright l.y Tht.ir.as H MtKm WHEN she entered Miss Wharton's ""K:ri'. Year English" class she was already the author of a novel. It was called "Annabel flavoring. A Tale ot Love ana Adventure.' The Principal had a copy of It in his pocket w hen he presented himself that year. Miss Wharton had just returned from her summer vacation. She turned the pages with supercilious fingers. She read the opening paragraph. She pondered th name on the fly-leaf: "Johnny Ethel Potts." Then she held the unholy thing out to the Principal at arm's length, as one holds a dead mouse by the tail. "It's absolutely corn-complete ! " the said. "Take it:" Phe principal, threw back his head with his longdeferred brief laughter. Then he sobered. "I brought it to you," he said. "It's a present." Miss Wharton gave him one look. "Take It!" she repeated. "What shall t do with it?" asked the Principal meekly. "Burn it or bury it. Jt's all ery well for yoa to laugh," she ended resentfully. "Vou won't have to teach her.'Johnny Ethel, it turned out, had redeeniingpoints. Even her small, insolent face with its irregular mouth, its upturned nose, its huge, brazen black eyes was not without a certain attraction for the tolerant-minded. Mrs. Meredith, indeed, dismissed Johnny Ethel with one damning adjective. She was so "common." And common Johnny Ethel certainly was common alike in her faults and in her virtues; in her quick, shallow affectionateness and her spontaneous spitefulness; in her brief allegiance and her fleeting generosities; In her frank, feminine blandishments and her obvious wiles. Popularity of a certain sort, she had from the; beginning. The boys, of whatever social status, yieldeu after their various fashions, to her sway. They recognized the lure of the big snapping black eyes in the small, soft face, and indulgently succumbed. They would whisper" to her across tho aisles a dozen times a day, and take the resultant "'checks" with cheerful philosophy. She was what the teachers called a "centre of disorder." Miss Armstrong said her motto was "a man's a man for a- that." Miss Wharton, however, noticed, a day or two after school began, an unexpected reason for charity in judging the incipient genius. She was going over some preliminary work with the Principal ono evening, when they came upon Johnny Ethel's name. "You didn't tell me that the author of "Annabel Clavering: A Tale of Love and Adventure,' was a cripple, ' "she said suddenly. Didn't know it myself until this morning," said the Principal. "I was investigating some cases of tardiness and she gave her lameness as an excuse. Since then I've noticed that she limps slightly." "Did you accept the excuse?" "Why no," said the Principal. "I told her that she knew that Ehe was lame beforehand, and should have started earlier." "How perfectly inhuman," remarked Miss Wharton. "What did she do then?' The Principal hesitated; under hiB questioner's teasing eyes he even reddened a little. "Why " "Oh, do tell me that she burst into tears!' said Miss Wharton clasping her hands. "In the name of all the Muses and the Artistic Temperament, do tell me that she wept!" "Well," admitted the Principal, with a sulky grin, "she did." "And said " "Yes; that her lameness had always set her apart from the rest of the worlJ'; had 'embittered her life.' ' "Oh, dear!" sighed Miss Wharton, tears of mirth in her eyes. "It seems to me," said the Principal with dignity, " that such satiric enjoyment of other people's misfortunes is somewhat inhuman.' Miss Wharton grew graver. "Poor infant," she said. "It is hard; I know I'm a monster. To be lame and a genius," she added levity again gaining the upper hand, "like Byron.' "That, " said the Pricipal, avoiding her eyes, "is what she said." And at that Miss Wharton threw scruples to the winds. Nevertheless, she was particularly kind after that to Johnny Etnel. And Johnny Ethel repaid her with her quick, if superficial, affection; though she continued to miss her lessons, and persisted in whipering to any available boy on every possible occasion, and took "checks"' and corrections with the worst possible grace turning up her already tiptilted nose when the teacher's back was turned, and dropping the lids over her snapping eyes with inimitable insolence. Johnny Ethel's flirtations were so indiscriminate that it. was some time before Miss Wharton became aware of the one which was to prove in the sequel, especially significant. She had her attention called to it at the luncheon conference of the highschool teachers. "What has come over Gilbert Staunton?" asked Mrs. Meredith one day. "I can't account for the change in his work. It has lapsed from excellent to unspeakable. I wonder if he suffers much from his hip? What are you smiling about Miss Armstrong. "I was thinking cf a talk I had with his ?iter Bill

the other day." said Miss Armstrong. 'Gilbert' in love. Mrs. Meredith, murmured her self-pity In Latin; Miss Harvey gave her fetching girlish laugh; Mis Munn looked shocked. Miss Wharton looked inquiringly at the speaker. "Yes. it's jour literary genius." said Miss Armstrong. "He was drawn to her by their common affliction; he says they are kindrej souls. Oh. I could tell you lots more." she added reassuringly; "the family are wildly uneasy about it. and they poured it all Into my sympathizing ear. They're thinking of sending him to Cuba for his health." Mrs. Meredith's nose assumed its most eloquent angle. "I certainly should if I were his mother. ' she said. " They are people of culture and refinement. ' "Does anybody know anything about her people, asked Miss Munn. The Thomas Jefferson School had imported Miss Munn from the far north. Mrs. Meredith prefaced an answer by a shrug that spoke volumes. "Certainly," he said. "Her mother is a dressmaker: the most impossible woman with whom 1 ever had dealings. 1 never took her a second garment. ' Mrs. Meredith shuddered over the remem tiered experience. Miss Wharton smiled maliciously. "Keat's father kept a livery-stable, ' she said, "and Byron's mother was impossible." About a month after this revelation Miss Wharton was working at her desk one evening after school, when Gilbert entered somewhat apologetically. Miss Wharton watched his difficult progress with pity. He was a fair-faced, gentle-looking boy, with the unmistakable, abnormal look of one born to a radical physical defect. In spite of her pity, she had always found the boy a little uncomfortable to deal with. He had told 'her once that, when he was in her class, he could hardly listen to her questions, for looking at her eyes; a confidence which had disturbed her less after she learned by accident that he had told Miss Harvey he. could not study while she was in the room for listening to her voice. Gilbert evidently was laboring under a sense of the momentousness of his errand. "Miss Wharton,' he said appealingly, "do you agree with Carlyle's opinion of Byron, that we read In class to-day-Miss Wharton mentally gasped. It's hard to mold moral standards with one ha:.d and aesthetic standards with the other. "Yes, I believe 1 do. Gilbert. on the whole. Byron was a great poet, but he was not a strong man was he?' "Oh. but he had such noble impulses, you know! Miss Wharton. 1 couldn't make you understand howr I feel about Byron. It's- it's a sort of affinity between our minds, I think. And I have a llttls friend if possible, she worships iim even mora than I do." For an instant Gilbert paused in delicious embarrassment; but before Miss Wharton' dazed mind could grasp his reference to JohnnyEthel, he was pouring further conr lences Into her defenseless ears. He was telling her what a deep, noble nature Johnny Ethel had; how she kept m copy of "The Castaway" under her pillow, blistered with tears and worn out with reading; how she kept Byrons picture on her bureau, and burned" candles before it on his birthday; -ow bravely she bore her suffering. "And. Miss Wharton." added poor Gilbert, "she sees my resemblance to Byron. That's one reason he's so good about letting m come to see her. I don't think there's anybody at home that really appreciates her,' he added pensively. A few days later Miss Armstrong entered th lunchroom with her most knowing smile. "Gilbert."' she announced, has gone l Cuba for his health." Johnny Ethel bore Gilbert's absence with considerable fortitude. She continued to whisper in.defatigably across the aisle to adjacent masculinity, and to embellish her themes with reference to .the "golden orb of day" and the "hymeneal altar. The latter was a phrase she never omitted, even from her theme on "Basket-Ball." She always insisted that she thought "golden orb of day" was "lot's prettier'n Just 'sun.' " One day after school, a month or two after Gilbert's departure. Miss Wharton received a messaga from the Principal that Mrs. Potts was In the office, and wished to speak to the teachers. Johnny Ethel" had been absent that day an unusual occurrence; for In spite cf her lameness, Johnny Ethels attendance had b'-en the most creditable iters in her whole academic record. When she reaohed the office Miss Wharton found three or four of the other teachers assembled. listening to a voluble little woman In black, who was plainly on the verge of tears. "I was just saying. Miss Wharton," she said, turning to the newcomer distressfully, "that I wanted to come and tell you all before you seen it In the papers. I've tried co hard to give her a good education, and I've heard her talk bo much about you-all, and she'd only known the younjr man a month, sinc t he's been driving the laundry wagon " "Johnnv Ethel's married." exclaimed Miss Willing, the practical and kindly ia answer t "Miss Wharton's bewildered face. "And to think she'd run away, when I've alway humored her so ' "I suspect you have indulged her too much. Mm. Potts," said Miss Munn, in her throaty voice, wltb the funereal nod with which he was wont to emphasize her most dismal remarks. "I suppose her lameness made it hard not to. Interposed Miss Harvey, with eager soothing. Even in her garrulous distress and bewilderment the mother stopped short, staring at Miss Harvey. "Her lameness,' repeated Miss Harvey, in hep brightly didactic way. "Has she always beer lame?" Everybody looked at the mother's blank face, then at everybody else, and the truth began to dawn. "Oh,' mourned the mother. "I never knowed her to complain of being lame but onct, and then I had her to rub hrslf with arnica liniment there ain't nothing better and kept her home from the skating rink, and she never saij nothing about It afterward ! ' When Mrs. Potts had taken her melancholy departure Johnny Ethel's instructors gazed at each other with indescribable faces. "Well.' said Mrs. Meredith with dignity. "Many a time,' said Miss Harvey, batting her eyes impressively. "I have said to myself, "That girl can walk aa well as I can.' " "Yes," assented the Principal, gathering up hia scattered papers, "she sometimes forgot to limp." At last Miss Munn's intelligence. like heavy artillery, arrived upon the scene. "Then she wasn't lame at all!' she ventured, in a hushed, shocked voice. But Gilbert's confidante had traveled miles past that detail. Unobserved In the midst of the confusion of tongnes. Miss Wharton dropped her forehead into her hands, and murmured. "The laundry boy!"

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