Snappy Sketches from Life

Snappy Sketches From Life A Day at the Cullen Apartments BY MISS AMEE WALKER, STUDENT BRIGHAM YOUNG UNIVERSITY "Good-by, mama dear !" Two little arms reached above broad shoulders, and pink lips pressed dry, firm ones. Then turning, eight-year-old Elsie skipped down the walk, while Mrs. Jones, arms akimbo, stood watching her until she passed around the corner. Presently a caller broke in upon her reveries : "I should like to speak with the landlady of the Cullen apart- ments." "I am she." Egotistically the corpulent form turned in the doorway. "Will you be seated?" "I am Mr. Donivan. I represent the American School of Home Economics. I have something in which I am sure you will be interested. The perplexing question that confronts house- wives regarding the keeping of food in this warm weather, has come to an end. The problem of ice supply is a thing of the past. Whereas, heretofore, the refrigerator has been a constant worry to the commissary, now we have a most efficient method which is also a labor-saving device ; economical financially ; and still is very much more satisfactory. Madam," said the agent, his voice approaching a climax, "I have here, in miniature, an iceless re- frigerator." The peroration was lost, for Mrs. Jones' elephantine figure was moving toward the door in answer to a gentle ring. "Oh, Mrs. Jones !" piped a lady-like voice through a bundle of pins which the owner proceeded deliberately to take out of the corner of her mouth and stick one at a time into a cushion at the slender girdle. "Have you any blue thread like this sample? T can't do a stitch more until I get some." The good-natured landlady went into an adjoining room and presently returned with the desired article. "Oh, that's perfectly dear of you, Mrs. Jones." "Oh, you're entirely welcome, Miss Redd," answered the land- lady, in a matter-of-fact way. "As I was saying," continued Mr. Donivan, tapping his pencil on the arm of the chair, "the iceless refrigerator is economic from more than one view-point. — "

1082 IMPROVEMENT ERA "Mrs. Jones! Mrs. Jones!" rang out a voice hysterically through the adjoining hallway. Without a word the landlady of the Cullen apartments went out with all the speed available from her distressing avoirdupois. "Mrs. Jones, I wish you'd carry out the rules !" wailed Mrs. Burgess. "Here's me Jakie and Mikie — they niver have a bit o' fun. Kids can't play a minute in peace. If they run in the left court, Mr. Brown says, 'I can't read Darwin and Spencer while a herd of howlin' genera are fighting for the survival of the fittest.' If they go to right court, Miss Drew comes out on the veranda and calls, 'Boys ! Boys ! Don't you know you are not allowed in this court !' "T'other night I told her to go in 'er room, and when I needed some one to help me train me byes, I'd call her. And then Miss Dew, she told Mrs. Potter and Mrs. Potter told me, that she'd slap my Jakie's ears fer him the first chance she got when his ma wasn't lookin'. "Mrs. Jones, there's jest two things to be done, Miss Dew has got to get out, or else me and me byes are going to leave your rooms empty." A talk about vacating rooms always struck a tender chord in Mrs. Jones' mechanism, and her voice became gentle. "I'm busy with a caller just now, but I'll see about this matter later on." Wiping the perspiration from her forehead with her apron, she turned again to Mr. Donivan. . "Hm, hem," clearing his throat of its idleness, "regarding this new invention — hm — its merits are based on the fact that when the tank is kept filled with water, the cooling virtues come in the rapid evap — " A loud ring caused Mr. Donivan to stop abruptly. Mrs. Jones picked up the 'phone and called out tersely: "Hello! Yes. Oh, yes, I did, hubby dear! Yes, I 'phoned for four gallons of brown paint and six packages of light buff calcimine — wasn't that right ? I don't know ; they said they'd send it out yesterday afternoon. Oh, not any more busy than usual. Yes, I'll prepare a luncheon and — let's go to Peninsula Park. All right. Good-by." If there was one thing that gave Sir Donivan discomfort, it was to be interrupted in arguments for things that lay next to his heart — whether iceless chest or what not. Collecting his thoughts, he strove to bring things to a focus. "Now, madam, I have three sizes of refrigerators. Which can I leave with you?" Mrs. Jones seemed to be somewhat interested. "I like this small one with the three shelves," and she picked up the cube of butter, but — it collapsed !

SNAPPY SKETCHES FROM LIFE. 1083 "Mrs. Jones !" Looking up they saw an Irish nose pointed in the same direction as a pair of size nines, width E. "I have just received a shipment of books. Will you please tell me where I can dispose of the boxes in which they came?" "We put everything like that in the furnace. You can take it down there, Mr. Brown." As Mr. Brown descended the narrow stairway to unpack his new arrivals, he met Miss Redd with a traveling bag in hand. "Oh, are you leaving town, Miss Redd?" "Why don't you ask when I'm coming back?" coquetishly responded the little seamstress. "I take it for granted that it will not be long." "It will be as long as this beastly hot weather lasts," and laughing she ran down the steps. As Brown opened his boxes of books he felt the color scheme slightly changing — life seemed to have a more bluish tinge than before. He had planned such an enjoyable evening with Miss Redd — that is, if she was not going to be otherwise engaged. Then seating himself near the open window with the latest novel and a large palm-leaf fan, he decided that ladies in books were much more easily understood and — -just about as fascinating — though reallv not quite. Mr. Donivan in the waiting room below began to feel an iciness coming over his business, in spite of the fact that his physical being was melting rapidly with the extreme heat — when another voice called out, as its owner entered. "Mrs. Jones, I left mv kev at the shop. Have you a skeleton?" "Please be seated, Miss Dew, and I'll look." Once more the iceless man was left in the air. Sitting on the eds:e of a chair. Miss Dew gave a glance of inquiry at the doleful countenance which immediatelv took on a look of interest as the wearer seemed to be deciding whether or not he should re- tell his story. Presentlv he began : "Are you interested in keeping up a home?" Miss Dew had been waiting thirty-three years and therefore concluded to be amiable, as was her wont on all similar occasions. Before one o'clock Mr. Donivan had succeeded in installing one of his refrigerators in the apartment of the demonstrator of the o-rocerv deoartment of "Old. Workman and King." He also had Miss Dew's signature as to the inestimable value and service- ableness of the iceless refrigerator. On returning from school that afternoon little Elsie found a note on the table : "Mother has gone to the nark with father. You and Annie Roonev mav play tea partv and we'll soon be home.' Elsie, in searching the house for Annie Rooney or some other

1084 IMPROVEMENT ERA of her numerous dolls, noticed the over-filled furnace, the door fairly gaping with unburnt trash. The temptation was too strong. Getting a match she set fire to the paper, and after trying in vain to close the door, wandered up stairs. A half hour later, Mr. Brown (still gloomy) found he could no longer be interested in his book heroine. Wiping his forehead repeatedly with his handkerchief he sat back with hazy thoughts of the tragedy of a man suffocated in his room. Going down stairs he found Mrs. Burgess and children, panting in the lower hall. "Dreadfully warm, isn't it? You boys look like you both had a fever," and he thrust his long neck further out of his collar, by way of making a better air shaft. He had not noticed Miss Redd, who, returning from her de- livery of Mrs. Benson's gown, had gone in search of a cooler place, and was sitting in her room tatting to take her mind off her discomfort. Suddenly a shrill scream was heard. "The house is a fire!" Rushing into the dining room they beheld thin wisps of smoke coming out of the open registers along with a merciless blast of hot air. Mr. Brown suddenly found himself the only available hero material in the apartments. He first assisted Miss Dew toward the door, but dropped her unceremoniously on hearing Miss Redd's terrified voice upstairs. A few seconds later she fainted — oh delightful sensation ! — in his arms. And he brought her limp , and lifeless down the stairs. Mike and Jake had rushed off to give the alarm .and now the whole population of the Cullen apartments and its vicinity were walking to and fro in the streets expecting the flames to burst from the windows at any moment. "Fire! fire!" shouted every- body, and the street was fast filling with spectators. Mrs. and Mr. Jones returned from the park. "Oh, my child, my Elsie !" shrieked the fat landlady, bursting in the door. Uostairs and down she ran while others, taking courage, fol- lowed her. Frantically through the house they went until, in the garret play room, they found "Goldie Locks" fast asleep. There being apparently no increase in the smoke and hot air, they went next in search of the trouble, and on reaching the base- ment found the furnace still burning but with only an occasional puff of smoke from the open door. Mr. Brown and Miss Redd it was noticed walked very close together, in spite of the heat. The fire, false alarm though it had been, had forever merged these colors into one. The only one to whom the perception of this fact brought sadness was Miss Dew. Returning disconsolately to her apartment she found the

SNAPPY SKETCHES FROM LIFE. 1085 eggs in the iceless refrigerator almost hard enough to serve, and the butter—well it had run away in the excitement.