Page 40 of 1919


  REINFORCEMENTS RUSHED TO REMOVE

  CAUSE OF ANXIETY

  All up and down her spine

  Was the Kings Own Guard in line

  And all around her hips

  Steamed a fleet of battleships

  the workers of Bavaria have overcome their party divisions and united in a mighty bloc against all domination and exploitation; they have taken over in Workers, Soldiers and Peasant’s Councils entire public authority

  Right above her kidney

  Was a birdseye view of Sydney

  But what I loved best was across her chest

  My home in Tennessee

  FORMER EASTSIDERS LARGELY RESPONSIBLE

  FOR BOLSHEVISM, SAYS DR. SIMONS

  ORDERS HOUSING OF LABOR IN PALACES

  UKRAINIANS FIRE ON ALLIED MISSION

  it looks at present as if Landru would be held responsible for the deaths of all the women who have disappeared in France, not only for the past ten years but for many decades previously

  The Camera Eye (40)

  I walked all over town general strike no busses no taxicabs the gates of the Metro closed Place de Iéna I saw red flags Anatole France in a white beard placards MUTILES DE LA GUERRE and the nutcracker faces of the agents de sûreté

  Mort aux vaches

  at the place de la Concorde the Republican Guards in christmastree helmets were riding among the crowd whacking the Parisians with the flat of their swords scraps of the International worriedlooking soldiers in their helmets lounging with grounded arms all along the Grands Boulevards

  Vive les poilus

  at the Republique à bas la guerre MORT AUX VACHES à bas la Paix des Assassins they’ve torn up the gratings from around the trees and are throwing stones and bits of cast iron at the fancydressed republican guards hissing whistling poking at the horses with umbrellas scraps of the International

  at the Gare de l’Est they’re singing the International entire the gendarmerie nationale is making its way slowly down Magenta into stones whistles bits of iron the International Mort Aux Vaches Barricades we must build barricades young kids are trying to break down the shutters of an arms shop revolver shots an old woman in a window was hit (Whose blood is that on the cobbles?) we’re all running down a side street dodging into courtyards concièrges trying to close the outside doors on cavalry charging twelve abreast firecracker faces scared and mean behind their big moustaches under their Christmastree helmets

  at a corner I run into a friend running too Look out They’re shooting to kill and it’s begun to rain hard so we dive in together just before a shutter slams down on the door of the little café dark and quiet inside a few working men past middle age are grumblingly drinking at the bar Ah les salops There are no papers Somebody said the revolution had triumphed in Marseilles and Lille Ca va taper dure We drink grog americain our feet are wet at the next table two elderly men are playing chess over a bottle of white wine

  later we peep out from under the sliding shutter that’s down over the door into the hard rain on the empty streets only a smashed umbrella and an old checked cap side by side in the clean stone gutter and a torn handbill L’UNION DES TRAVAILLEURS FERA

  Newsreel XXXVIII

  C’est la lutte finale

  Groupons-nous et demain

  L’internationale

  Sera le genre humain

  FUSILLADE IN THE DIET

  Y.M.C.A. WORKERS ARRESTED FOR STEALING FUNDS

  declares wisdom of people alone can guide the nation in such an enterprise SAYS U. S. MUST HAVE WORLD’S GREATEST FLEET when I was in Italy a little limping group of wounded Italian soldiers sought an interview with me. I could not conjecture what they were going to say to me, and with the greatest simplicity, with a touching simplicity they presented me with a petition in favor of the League of Nations. Soldiers Rebel at German Opera

  ORDERED TO ALLOW ALL GREEKS TO DIE

  CANADIANS RIOT IN BRITISH CAMP

  Arise ye pris’ners of starvation

  Arise ye wretched of the earth

  For justice thunders condemnation

  A qui la Faunte se le Beurre est Cher?

  GAINS RUN HIGH IN WALL STREET

  MANY NEW RECORDS

  NE SOYONS PAS LES DUPES DU TRAVESTI BOLCHEVISTE

  the opinion prevails in Washington that while it might be irksome to the American public to send troops to Asia Minor people would be more willing to use an army to establish order south of the Rio Grande. Strikers menace complete tieup of New York City. Order restored in Lahore. Lille undertakers on strike

  THREAT OF MUTINY BY U. S. TROOPS

  CALIFORNIA JURY QUICKLY RENDERS VERDICT

  AGAINST SACRAMENTO WORKERS

  ’Tis the final conflict

  Let each stand in his place

  The international party

  Shall be the human race

  BOLSHEVISM READY TO COLLAPSE SAYS

  ESCAPED GENERAL

  the French Censor will not allow the Herald to say what the Chinese Delegation has done but that there is serious unrest it would be idle to deny. Men who have been deprived of the opportunity to earn a living, who see their children crying for food, who face an indefinite shutdown of industries and a possible cessation of railway traffic with all the disorganization of national life therein implied, can hardly be expected to view the situation calmly and with equanimity

  BRITISH TRY HARD TO KEEP PROMISE

  TO HANG KAISER

  it is declared the Coreans are confident President Wilson will come in an aeroplane and listen to their views. A white flag set up on Seoul Hill is presumed to indicate the landingplace

  Daughter

  She wasn’t sick a bit and was popular on the crossing that was very gay although the sea was rough and it was bitter cold. There was a Mr. Barrow who had been sent on a special mission by the President who paid her a great deal of attention. He was a very interesting man and full of information about everything. He’d been a socialist and very close to labor. He was so interested when she told him about her experiences in the textile strike over in Jersey. In the evenings they’d walk around and around the deck arm in arm, now and then being almost thrown off their feet by an especially heavy roll. She had a little trouble with him trying to make love to her, but managed to argue him out of it by telling him what she needed right now was a good friend, that she’d had a very unhappy love affair and couldn’t think of anything like that any more. He was so kind and sympathetic, and said he could understand that thoroughly because his relation with women had been very unsatisfactory all his life. He said people ought to be free in love and marriage and not tied by conventions or inhibitions. He said what he believed in was passionate friendship. She said she did too, but when he wanted her to come to his room in the hotel the first night they were in Paris, she gave him a terrible tonguelashing. But he was so nice to her on the trip down to Rome that she began to think that maybe if he asked her to marry him she might do it.

  There was an American officer on the train, Captain Savage, so good looking and such a funny talker, on his way to Rome with important despatches. From the minute she met Dick, Europe was wonderful. He talked French and Italian, and said how beautiful the old tumbledown towns were and screwed up his mouth so funnily when he told stories about comical things that happened in the war. He was a little like Webb only so much nicer and more selfreliant and betterlooking. From the minute she saw him she forgot all about Joe and as for G. H. Barrow, she couldn’t stand the thought of him. When Captain Savage looked at her it made her all melt up inside; by the time they’d gotten to Rome she’d admitted to herself she was crazy about him. When they went out walking together the day they all made an excursion to the ruins of the Emperor Hadrian’s villa, and the little town where the waterfall was, she was glad that he’d been drinking. She wanted all the time to throw herself in his arms; there was something about the rainy landscape and the dark lasciviouseyed people and the old names of the towns and the garlic a
nd oil in the food and the smiling voices and the smell of the tiny magenta wildflowers he said were called cyclamens that made her not care about anything anymore. She almost fainted when he started to make love to her. Oh, she wished he would, but No, No, she couldn’t just then, but the next day she’d drink in spite of the pledge she’d signed with the N.E.R. and shoot the moon. It wasn’t so sordid as she’d expected but it wasn’t so wonderful either; she was terribly scared and cold and sick, like when she’d told him she hadn’t ever before. But the next day he was so gentle and strong, and she suddenly felt very happy. When he had to go back to Paris and there was nothing but office work and a lot of dreary old maids to talk to, it was too miserable.

  When she found she was going to have a baby she was scared, but she didn’t really care so much; of course he’d marry her. Dad and Buster would be sore at first but they’d be sure to like him. He wrote poetry and was going to be a writer when he got out of the army; she was sure he was going to be famous. He didn’t write letters very often and when she made him come back to Rome he wasn’t nearly as nice about it as she expected; but of course it must have been a shock to him. They decided that perhaps it would be better not to have the baby just then or get married till he got out of the service, though there didn’t seem to be any doubt in his mind about getting married then. She tried several things and went riding a great deal with Lieutenant Grassi, who had been educated at Eton and spoke perfect English and was so charming to her and said she was the best woman rider he’d ever known. It was on account of her going out riding so much with Lieutenant Grassi and getting in so late that the old cats at the N.E.R. got sore and sent her home to America.

  Going to Paris on the train, Daughter really was scared. The horseback riding hadn’t done any good, and she was sore all over from a fall she’d had when one of Lieutenant Grassi’s cavalry horses fell with her and broke his leg when she took him over a stone wall. The horse had to be shot and the Lieutenant had been horrid about it; these foreigners always showed a mean streak in the end. She was worried about people’s noticing how she looked because it was nearly three months now. She and Dick would have to get married right away, that’s all there was to it. Perhaps it would even be better to tell people they’d been married in Rome by a fat little old priest.

  The minute she saw Dick’s face when she was running down the corridor towards him in his hotel, she knew it was all over; he didn’t love her the least bit. She walked home to her hotel hardly able to see where she was going through the slimywet Paris streets. She was surprised when she got there because she expected she’d lose her way. She almost hoped she’d lose her way. She went up to her room and sat down in a chair without taking off her dripping wet hat and coat. She must think. This was the end of everything.

  The next morning she went around to the office; they gave her her transportation back home and told her what boat she was going on and said she must sail in four days. After that she went back to the hotel and sat down in a chair again and tried to think. She couldn’t go home to Dallas like this. A note from Dick came around giving her the address of a doctor.

  Do forgive me, he wrote. You’re a wonderful girl and I’m sure it’ll be all right.

  She tore the thin blue letter up in little tiny pieces and dropped it out the window. Then she lay down on the bed and cried till her eyes burned. Her nausea came on and she had to go out in the hall to the toilet. When she lay down again she went to sleep for a while and woke up feeling hungry.

  The day had cleared; sunlight was streaming into the room. She walked downstairs to the desk and called up G. H. Barrow in his office. He seemed delighted and said if she’d wait for him a half an hour, he’d come and fetch her out to lunch in the Bois; they’d forget everything except that it was spring and that they were beautiful pagans at heart. Daughter made a sour face, but said pleasantly enough over the phone that she’d wait for him.

  When he came he wore a sporty grey flannel suit and a grey fedora hat. She felt very drab beside him in the darkgray uniform she hated so. “Why, my dearest little girl . . . you’ve saved my life,” he said. “Susu-spring makes me think of suicide unless I’m in lu-lu-love . . . I was feeling . . . er . . . er . . . elderly and not in love. We must change all that.” “I was feeling like that too.” “What’s the matter?” “Well, maybe I’ll tell you and maybe I won’t.” She almost liked his long nose and his long jaw today. “Anyway, I’m too starved to talk.” “I’ll do all the talking . . .” he said laughing. “Alwawaways do anywawaway . . . and I’ll set you up to the bububest meal you ever ate.”

  He talked boisterously all the way out in the cab about the Peace Conference and the terrible fight the President had had to keep his principles intact. “Hemmed in by every sinister intrigue, by all the poisonous ghosts of secret treaties, with two of the cleverest and most unscrupulous manipulators out of oldworld statecraft as his opponents . . . He fought on . . . we are all of us fighting on . . . It’s the greatest crusade in history; if we win, the world will be a better place to live in, if we lose, it will be given up to Bolshevism and despair . . . you can imagine, Anne Elizabeth, how charming it was to have your pretty little voice suddenly tickle my ear over the telephone and call me away if only for a brief space from all this worry and responsibility . . . why, there’s even a rumor that an attempt has been made to poison the President at the hôtel Mûrat . . . it’s the President alone with a few backers and wellwishers and devoted adherents who is standing out for decency, fairplay and good sense, never forget that for an instant. . . .” He talked on and on as if he was rehearsing a speech. Daughter heard him faintly like through a faulty telephone connection. The day too, the little pagodas of bloom on the horsechestnuts, the crowds, the overdressed children, the flags against the blue sky, the streets of handsome houses behind trees with their carved stonework and their iron balconies and their polished windows shining in the May sunshine; Paris was all little and bright and far away like a picture seen through the wrong end of a field glass. When the luncheon came on at the big glittery outdoor restaurant it was the same thing, she couldn’t taste what she was eating.

  He made her drink quite a lot of wine and after a while she heard herself talking to him. She’d never talked like this to a man before. He seemed so understanding and kind. She found herself talking to him about Dad and how hard it had been giving up Joe Washburn, and how going over on the boat her life had suddenly seemed all new . . . “Somethin’ funny’s happened to me, I declare . . . I always used to get along with everybody fine and now I can’t seem to. In the N.E.R. office in Rome I couldn’t get along with any of those old cats, and I got to be good friends with an Italian boy, used to take me horseback riding an’ I couldn’t get along with him, and you know Captain Savage on the train to Italy who let us ride in his compartment, we went out to Tivoli with him,” her ears began to roar when she spoke of Dick. She was going to tell Mr. Barrow everything. “We got along so well we got engaged and now I’ve quarreled with him.”

  She saw Mr. Barrow’s long knobbly face leaning towards her across the table. The gap was very wide between his front teeth when he smiled. “Do you think, Annie girl, you could get along with me a little?” He put his skinny puffyveined hand towards her across the table. She laughed and threw her head to one side, “We seem to be gettin’ along all right right now.”

  “It would make me very happy if you could . . . you make me very happy, anyway, just to look at you . . . I’m happier at this moment than I’ve been for years, except perhaps for the mumumoment when the Covenant for the League of Nations was signed.”

  She laughed again, “Well, I don’t feel like any Peace Treaty, the fact is I’m in terrible trouble.” She found herself watching his face carefully; the upper lip thinned, he wasn’t smiling any more.

  “Why, what’s the mamamatter . . . if there was any wawaway I could . . . er . . . be of assistance . . . I’d be the happiest fellow in the world.”

  “Oh, no . . . I ha
te losing my job though and having to go home in disgrace . . . that’s about the size of it . . . it’s all my fault for running around like a little nitwit.” She was going to break down and cry, but suddenly the nausea came on again and she had to hurry to the ladies’ room of the restaurant. She got there just in time to throw up. The shapeless leatherfaced woman there was very kind and sympathetic; it scared Daughter how she immediately seemed to know what was the matter. She didn’t know much French but she could see that the woman was asking if it was Madame’s first child, how many months, congratulating her. Suddenly she decided she’d kill herself. When she got back Barrow had paid the bill and was walking back and forth on the gravel path in front of the tables.

  “You poor little girl,” he said. “What can be the matter? You suddenly turned deathly pale.”