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Page 29 text:
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LITERARY The Big Thrill ERHAPS the reason the large house seemed especially quiet to Mrs. Saunders, who was removing articles from Mr. Saunders's and her bedroom, was that she herself was the noise-maker. She stood in the middle of the floor, smiling and looking about her. How good it would seem to have fresh, clean walls surround her in place of the dingy plaid hung there some years ago! The precious fall sun, throwing a luminous parallelogram upon the floor, ensnared Mrs. Saunders,s leg and, with its enticing warmth, rooted her where she stood. She glanced through the window and noticed a small truck had slowed and was turning up the drive. It charged out of sight, and she heard it whirl to the back steps, crunching the loose gravel ferociously. Mrs. Saunders pulled her reluctant leg from its trap and hurried down the stairs. The ivory truck, identified by the M. Gilford, Decorator on its side, was humbly quiet now. Short and important Mr. Gilford, who stepped to the door toting a huge Volume under each arm, was graciously allowed to enter by Mrs. Saunders. Half an hour later they were settled at the dining room table thumbing through the two wallpaper books while discussing the merits of this and that pattern. Now, Mrs. Saunders, I suggest that the room is in need of a pastel shade which will reflect the light and enliven the walls, but we must be careful not to pick a, he squinted his eye expressively, hot color. Mr. Gilford spoke precisely and confidently in a manner which awed Mrs. Saunders. Well, my husband and I have always been partial to blue- she tapped a newly exposed pattern with a slender fore-finger. My, how lovely! she said emphatically. The paper consisted of alternate pink stripes and clustered flowers hanging in vertical lines against a blue background. Isn't that simply beautiful, Mr. Gilford? Mr. Gilford cleared his throat and stroked his nose thoughtfully, preparing to make his sale. Yes, Mrs. Saunders, it is very nice,', he said smoothly. Notice how your pink stripes are daintily touched with white to give the lacy effect and how gracefully each bouquet hangs from the one above. He outlined the flowers with a professional stroke of his curved finger. Mr, Gilford, what is this piece? asked Mrs. Saunders, holding a page that was identical to the pattern, except that it lacked the flower clusters and was half the size of the other page. That, said he, is the paper for two of the walls. It is the most recent idea in wallpaper to use two related patterns instead of the traditional one. He observed her reaction. She gave him a surprised glance. My word, I haven't heard of that before. I think John would like it. Mr. Gilford discerned the suitable amount of acceptance in her attitude and pressed on. He gave her examples of rooms recently decorated in this modern way and comments they had evoked. He took the heavy book upstairs and held it against the wall, while she observed it frowningly. Mr. Gilford, she said at last, I think I will have this paper. I know you will be pleased, Mrs. Saunders, with the result. He smiled correctly and carried off his two books. I will be able to begin work at eight o'clock tomorrowf' he said in departing, since you have cleared the room. Thank you, called Mrs. Saunders. She watched the truck Whiz to the highway. Perhaps she wouldn't tell john about the two papers at all. It was so charming that he would like it as much as she, of course. Yes, she would surprise him. For three days Mr. Gilford's little truck rattled the crisp leaves in the drive at eight o'clock in the morning and again at sunset. The inconvenienced household reeked gf T-,if 'Ass' H
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Page 30 text:
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of paint fumes and paste. Mr. Saunders disliked sleeping in the extra bedroom piled with unwelcome furniture, but he bore his hardship bravely. He was pleased with his wife's excitement over the new room and vexed because she doggedly insisted upon surprising him when the job was finished. Finally the third night came, and Mrs. Saunders led John up to their room. She opened the door and snapped on the light. John said, Say, there is a big difference. That Wilford fellow did quite a job. Gilford, Dear. I just love it!', exclaimed Mrs. Saunders. And it's so modern, John--the very newest in wallpaper, she said, remembering Mr. Gilford,s words. That's fine, Millie, said John, descending the stairs. Now, how about some supper? He rubbed his hands. I just had a bowl of soup for lunch, and I'm hungry! The transformation of the room was a constant source of pleasure for Mrs. Saunders, and John seldom mentioned it. One cold night many months later the Saunders set the thermostat at fifty-seven degrees, locked their doors, and retired to the blue room and bed for the evening. Mrs. Saunders admired her walls in the dim light while John listened to the soft babble of the radio newsman. Suddenly, after staring at the walls around him, he sat up and twisted towards his wife. Say, Millie, this wallpaper's cock-eyed! he said. Mrs. Saunders tipped her head back and laughed. Why, John, haven't you noticed that before? she chuckled. How funny. That's the way it should be. Why, that was my big thrill!,' , PEGGY S1MoNs Form VI So Long, Dave UST outside my door two deep voices interrupted a tense, important dream. My father and my brother Dave were arguing on the landing and all the Way down- stairs. By the time their rumbling had disappeared into the dining-room, I was wide awake and sitting up in bed. No light was coming through my window, only a cold grayness that had curled up on the sill. It was Saturday morning, a holiday. My brother was going into the Navy. By the light wedged around my door and the talking downstairs, I knew that I was probably the only one still in bed. I wouldn't have time to dress either, because Dave was leaving at nine. I groped around my closet looking for my best fplaid bath- robe and leather slippers, and combed my hair carefully in the soft light from my table lamp. As David's one sister, I had some responsibility for being the last civilized girl he was to see for months, besides Mary, of course. I stumbled down the back stairs to the kitchen, which was thick with smoke from French fried toast. Selma was trotting abstractedly from stove to table and then out into the dining room. His last good meal, I thought. There was nothing but half a grape- fruit in the refrigerator for breakfast. I ate it without sugar, already making sacrifices for my brother's safety. Mother found me on an excursion to the kitchen for jam for David, and I was brought into the dining-room. Dad was trying to persuade my brother to take more than a toothbrush with him for the three days on the train. David thought it unneces- sary to worry about three days' comfort when he was going to have to do things Navy style for at least six weeks in boot camp. Hell,', he declared nonchalantly, 'Tm not going to a day nursery. I agreed with him silently. At half-past eight David looked over the selection of books and letter paper that Mother had assembled on the hall table. His Christmas presents were there too, un- wrapped since yesterday. Why couldn't the admiralty have waited two days until Christmas to induct new men? I had collaborated with Mother to give David an oval 24 THE FLAME
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