Pink Pearls vs. Self-Respect

Pink Pearls vs. Self-Respect

By Venice Farnsworth Anderson

"Gee, he's coming, that means a swell time for me." Kate tucked the note, post marked "Camp Lewis," into the front of her waist and resumed chewing her gum audibly. The diminutive postoffice, which occupied one corner of a heterogeneous country store, was crowded at this hour with young girls who lingered, on any prentense, loath to return to their homes where the vegetables for dinner and the left-over dishes were claiming their attention. So, as she had desired, Kate immediately became the center of a wildly curious group of loitering girls. After a proper amount of coaxing and delay she finally permitted the entire contents of the note to be wormed out of her. "Yes, he is the guy that wears the white collar with his blouse. He wants to buy five of my dances in advance. I think I'll make him pay thirty cents for them," she concluded boastfully. Kate knew her business thoroughly. She belonged to the unique class known, at the dance hall, as "Dancing Instructors." Since the Camp Lewis cantonment had been established just three miles from the National Pavilion at Tillicum, this class had become of decided importance. Tillicum itself was merely the proverbial rural town in most respects. Besides its pretentious pavilion, nestling in a piney nook on the shore of American Lake, the village could boast only of a few scattered farm houses, a postoffice occupy- ing one corner of a country store, a cluster of cheap restaurants with a pool-hall in their midst, a gorgeous view of Mount Rainier, in all its snowy majesty, and vast acres of rolling pine- land. The advent, however, of 40,000 soldiers in the near vicinity had not only boomed the town but had made it necessary for the pavilion management to supply a large number of young girls who were willing to act as partners to the dance crazy boys. In order to insure a permanent supply of girls the company called them "Instructors" and furnished them with badges. As a still more important incentive the management insisted that the soldiers pay these partners five cents for each

"This story received first place *n he April, 1918 Era jtory contests.

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dance. The boys were already paying five cents to the hall for every dance. To add dignity to the scheme, the business was done by ticket. Each week the Instructors turned their tickets into the Hall and received cash for them. The company had no difficulty in securing the services of numbers of young girls who were over anxious to meet the army boys and who did not disdain earning money from them with which to buy long coveted silk hose, beads and flimsy waists. One of the first to volunteer for service had been Kate. In the past few weeks she had already increased her wardrobe in several, to her mind, important respects. She had consequently become a person of decided importance among the young feminine members of the town. Her graphic descriptions of "swell times" had with "real guys" and her no less persuasive abundance of silk hose, had already drawn several young ladies into the ranks who had at first haughtily refused to sell their dances. In fact, only one girl in the village who pos- sed the essential qualities of good looks and skill in dancing had remained obdurate. Gray-eyed Beth had persisted, not because she wasn't enthusiastic about pink stockings nor because she did not love dancing, but because her widowered Daddy had expressed violent disapprovel of the thing, and because she was not quite sure herself that it was perfectly all right to dance with strange boys for money. For the past few weeks she had regretfully stayed away from the dances. Many of her former friends failing to draw her in with them, had assumed a highly disin- terested air whenever with her; some of them were almost un- friendly. She had noticed that the conversations ceased ab- ruptly when she drew near a group of chatting girls. She was an outsider and she felt it keenly. Today in the postoffice she had noticed the aloofness more than usual. She wished that she had chosen a different time to come for her mail. Just when she was trying to get away unnoticed, she felt a friendly arm slip through hers, and heard one of the girls saying in a persuasive voice, "You'll be at the dance to-morrow, won't you, Beth?" This touch of kindness, coming just then from one of her favorite friends, was too much for Beth. — "Why, yes I was thinking of it," she said falteringly. — — "Good girls! Beth is coming with us tomorrow night," announced the friend with sincere pleasure. Immediately Beth was surrounded by the chatting girls, each one congratulating and patting her. Before she knew how any of it had happend, it was all arranged that Kate would call for her the next night and would bring an extra Instructor's badge with her.

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Saturday night, as the heavy lumber doors leading into the pavilion slammed behind Beth, she felt strange and fright- ened. Everything here was changed. The once familiar build- ing was jammed with noisy swaggering soldiers. A host of gay colored flags arranged in wild confusion hit her eye wherever she turned. The check stand had been increased to twice its normal size, and every pigeon hole was already bulging with soldiers' coats. The windows on the three sides of the room seemed to recede into dingy twilight as if afraid to face the boisterous throng. The monotonous slap-slap of cards in the process of dealing, could be heard distinctly from the balcony overhead. Across what had once been the bar, a strange lady, dressed in a rather low-necked waist, was selling loads of candy to the boys. She smiled constantly, but kept her eye "peeled" nevertheless for the coins which were slipped over the counter. Just above her head was a large black square upon which appeared the following words in startling, white type: — "Decency Remember Your Sister May Be Here." Beth flushed hotly as she read the sign, and unconsciously laid her hand over the red badge which she was wearing. Unexpectedly the orchestra, stationed on a small platform in the middle of the dance hall struck up an excruciating J ass one-step. Instantly hilarity was the order of the day. Just at this point Beth realized to her dismay that she had been deserted by Kate. She was suddenly seized with the intense desire to run and hide somewhere —anywhere. She looked furtively toward the cloak hall and started hastily in that direction. In spite of the throng on all sides of her she sud- denly felt a restraining hand on her arm. She turned quickly her heart beating so fast that it almost choked her. A pleas- ant looking soldier was offering her a ticket and smiling bash- fully. Because she did not know what on earth else to do, she quickly disposed of her coat, thrust the ticket into her pocket, accepted his proffered arm and walked unsteadily toward the dance floor. This she noticed to her surprise, had been securly roped off, the only access being through several iron gateways, each supplied with a small ticket box and with a watchful gate- keeper. Her partner pushed her gently forward and dropped his ticket in the box as they passed through the gate. — The dance was on. The cheerful strains of the music and the rhythmical motion of their feet, fortunately they were both excellent dancers, had an exhilerating effect on Beth's naturally o^ay spirit. By the time the dance was half over she felt al- most happy. She talked about the floor, the music and the changes in the hall to her partner, and he grinned approvingly

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at her. She watched her girl friends as they whirled by her, from time to time, and found herself studying their clothes critically. Kate wore a gaudy creation of flesh-colored gorgette and black velvet. Beth thought the neck was none too high and the sleeves were rather a minus quantity. All the girls were wearing new waists, new shoes, or at ileast bright-colored stockings. A few of them had suddenly be- come the possessors of extraordinary pink cheeks and dark eye lashes. Beth felt a very friendly feeling toward the boy who had picked her out in spite of her plain white waist and black hose. As unexpectedly as the music had started it stopped. Beth's partner led her to a comfortable seat by the furnace stove in the fore part of the hall, thanked her, bowed stiffly and with- drew. One by one the other girls came up. Most of them said something sweet and rather patronizing to her. She knew they were inwardly comparing clothes with her, to her very great disadvantage. Beth was blessed with goodly supply of well seasoned spunk, so instead of feeling offended and mis- erable, she took up the gauntlet which her friends had innocent- ly thrown down. She realized that she could dance with the best of them, and she deliberately decided to make agreeable- ness take the place of showy clothes. To her credit, she was blissfully unconscious of her mass of golden brown hair, her deep gray eyes fringed with lashes which needed no touching up, and a mouth possessed of the most elusive and tantalizing dimples in the world. The orchestra burst forth again tumultuously. Kate was im- mediatley beckoned to. She stood up, assumed an extremely — blase expression and smiled a "see how popular / am" smile at Beth as she passed her. Beth's cheeks flushed slightly. Before she could get complete control of herself, someone touched her suggestively on the shoulder. She understood what it meant instinctively and scarcely glancing at the man, she went on to the floor with him. The excitement of the moment lent wings to her feet and also to her tongue. She could have danced and talked with the most stupid of men that night. At the end of a furious pivot, which she executed with per- fect skill, she heard her partner ask coaxingly, "Say, Miss, can I have the next three dances?" Beth didn't exactly like the way he squeezed her hand as he slid the tickets into it, he was a trifle fat and had thick lips, but she reasoned that since he seemed to be a gentleman it would be all right to dance with him. She knew that to make such a contract was the height of an Instructor's ambition. As

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she walked to her seat, her hand closed slowly over the tickets. Just as she approached the rough wooden bench by the fire, a tall, sinewy sergeant with clear, blue eyes and a straight, boyish mouth smiled politely and vacated his seat for her. When he smiled, Beth noticed that he had splendid teeth which made his mouth decidedly attractive. She did not notice however, that he had slid into the seat just in time to be able to offer it to her. Once she caught him looking at her with such an intent, sober expression in his blue eyes, that she blushed profusely and for some reason felt painfully conscious of her badge. She knew that he was still looking at her after she had turned away. With a wild flourish the orchestra started on the Fox- trot, her favorite dance. She had suddenly lost all desire to dance. With a selfish impulse, she wished that the drummer would break his drum and the whole string of battered fry- ing pans with which he was making hideous screeches and clashes. She could see her partner grinning broadly, elbow- ing his way toward her. The next moment he grabbed her and hustled her on to the floor. After a few steps she found to her disgust that he ragged the Fox-trot outrageously. To help matters out, he was ma- neuvering to place his cheek against hers. Just at this time, Kate whirled by cheek to cheek and arm in arm with her "swell guy." The sight was enough. Beth suddenly stiffened and tried to use the straight arm treatment on her partner. He laughed a throaty gurgle which she had never heard before and responded by grasping her more firmly at every turn. She became painfully hot from head to foot and lost the step. "What's the matter, kid?" asked her partner gruffly. "What're you trying to give me for my money?" Then Beth realized with unmistakable force just what it meant to accept money for a dance. If the music had not come to her rescue by stopping, she verily believed that she would have screamed for help. She loathed the man until she could not endure his touch and she feared him as she would a wild beast. Indistinctly through her buzzing ears, she could hear the crowd furiously clapping and begging for an encore. She grasped the rope which happened to be near and attempt- ed to steady herself. Her partner mopping his streaming face with his "0. D." handkerchief was shouting, "come on— give us some more—more." And to her horror, the orchestra did an unheard of thing; it began to play an encore. "I I can't dance any more," gasped Beth attempting to thrust his three tickets into his sweaty hand. "Ah, come on. You can't cheat me out of this," he bawled, trying to' jerk her forward.—Beth struggled helplessly.

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"I beg pardon, Corporal, but the rest of this lady's dances belong to me," said a low restrained voice behind them. Beth turned as surprised as she was relieved. The Ser- geant with the steady, blue eyes and pleasant smile was look- ing calmy at the blustering, red-faced Corporal. "The they do!" responded the corporal, right facing abruptly but in no way releasing his hold on Beth. "What the are you butting in for?" "Because," replied the Sergeant, still calmy, but his eyes were as piercing as cold steel and his mouth was no longer exactly pleasant. "Because the lady does not care to dance with — — you any more. She has offered you your tickets and ," his voice dropped even lower. He leaned slightly forward, both fists clenched — "And if you don't get away from her double quick, I'll knock you across the pavilion." A bully is usually a coward as well. The Corporal knew he was beaten. He covered his retreat with several vollies of curses, cluched the proffered tickets and disappeared into the crowd. Beth was deathly pale. Her gray eyes looked unusually large and very dark. The Sergeant knew where she had left her coat. Without a word he brought it and slipped it on her. "You need some fresh air," he suggested cheerfully, Meek- ly she permitted him to lead her out. In the clear, cool air, she shuddered convulsively. — "Let's let's go down by the lake," she gasped in a strained voice which she did not recognize herself. He guided her as best he could over the unfamiliar, un- even ground. To his great relief they came soon to a crude bench on the shore of the lake. Beth sank on this and, turn- ing her back completely on him, broke into quivering sobs. The Sergeant had read enough fiction to believe firmly in the doctrine that it is useless to interrupt a weeping girl, therefore he remained discreetly silent and completely miserable. Gradually, in spite of the awkwardness of the situation, the wild beauty of the scene around him forced itself into his consciousness. At his feet the 4ake stretched out, a broad sheet of rippling silver. As far -as his eye could see, stately pines adorned the irregular shores; Their jagged branches cast weird shadows on the otherwise bright water. The moon floated high in a cool sky, casting a pale light over land and sea. It touched even the crude pavilion with kindly interest, moulding its harsh outlines into an almost stately dignity. Through the open windows softened strains of music drifted over the water. Night birds chirped their occasional love notes from the depths of the forest. In the distance, water, sky and land were wedded in a perfect unity.

—

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Nature, at least, was calm and joyful. Even the heart- broken girl could not long withstand its subtle serenity. Her sobs became intermittent and finally ceased. She remained per- fectly quiet, her face buried in her arm. The Sergeant was beginning to feel decidedly uncomfor- table. Her silence was almost worse than her crying. He had never wished to comfort anyone so much in his life. To make bad matters worse, a truant moon beam was playing in her mass of golden brown hair, showing the intricate waves and, lighting now and then on her tiny ear, and on the soft curves of her throat. He had just about come to the conclusion that he ought to put his arm reassuringly round her and beg her to cheer up, when she suddenly sat bolt upright, her hands clenched in her lap, her gray eyes staring out across the lake. "I hate myself," she said slowly with unfeigned passion. "Why did I ever put this cursed thing on?" The red ribbon badge lay crumpled out of all recognition in her hand. She squeezed it into a tight ball and threw it as far as she could in- to the lake. The friendly water wafted it slowly out of sight. The Sergeant smiled inwardly at her tempestuous mood. He was very glad he had not put his arm around her. She was evidently not the clinging vine type and would have been highly insulted. Before he could think of anything exactly proper to say, she suddenly accosted him. "Why don't you say something? Honestly, I'm not that kind of girl. I never did it before and I'll never do it again." Sergeant Freeborn laughed a soft, pleasing laugh, which made his eyes dance and his white teeth show delightfully. — "My dear girl" he had several sisters at home and all girls were sisters to him by a sort of friendly adoption. He said "dear" as naturally as he would say "Miss," and yet there was a ring of sincerity about it which never failed to please "My dear girl, I know you are not that kind, and that is why I wanted to get you out of there." Beth opened her eyes wider, if possible, and stared inquir- ingly at him. "I saw you when you came in the door and I knew by the startled look on your face that you were in the wrong place. I was sorry and a little disappointed, when I saw your badge." Beth's eyes suddenly lowered and her upper lip quiv- — ered slightly The Sergeant continued soothingly, "There are probably a lot of good girls in that hall, and I know there are a lot of dandy, fine fellows, who are just crazy for a little fun. But I guess you know by this time, that there are some other fellows who are not quite so nice."— Beth shuddered at the

966 IMPROVEMENT ERA — recollection of one of them "It's a downright shame," contin ued the Sergeant, "but there are a host of men in the world, and the army got it's share, who don't seem to know what man- hood means. A girl shouldn't take a chance with this kind of fellow." Beth put her trembling hand on his arm and looked in- tently into his face. "I know you are good," she said softly. "You are different from almost any boy I ever met. Why is it, that I feel so well acquainted and so safe with you?"

Foolish sentimentality was entirely foreign to the boy's nature, and so he answered as frankly as the girl had asked, paying no attention to the rich compliment which she had given him: "In the first place, you are undoubtedly a sweet, pure girl and you have a natural aversion to anything that is not good. In the second place, I believe, I am good. My home is in Utah and I have been trained from my boyhood up, that it is a man's duty to protect and respect women. My dear mother has always told me that I should take care of a girl, if she can't take care of herself, instead ofleading her on to do foolish things. But all fellows haven't been blessed with the same kind of home training." "No, I should say not," assented Beth. Then she added half apologetically, "You see, I don't know much about men. Mother died a few yeare ago and I spend most of my time with Daddy. He told me not to go to these dances and I should have obeyed him. But I wanted some pink ear bobs! All the girls have them," she added pouting with true feminine discontent. The Sergeant suddenly burst forth into a peal of laughter. This last admission was too unexpected for proper self-control. "My dear girl, you don't need pink ear bobs," he managed to say finally, taking a side glance at her delicately shaped lobes. A rather embarrassing silence followed, during which the Sergeant drew a mental picture of the probable state of mind of the poor, old Daddy at home. Partly to ease his mind "nd partly to get over the difficult silence, the boy asked politely, "Don't you think we would better be going home? I imagine your Father will be worrying about you. "Goodness, yes!" replied Beth suddenly remembering. I must go right now." "Mayn't I see you home?" asked the Sergeant feeling self- conscious for the first time. "Oh, no, indeed," replied Beth quickly. "I have taken too much of your time already. You must go back to the dance. I'll be home in a few minutes." Then remembering her indebt- ness, she turned and offering him both her hands, she said

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sincerely, "Thank you a thousand times for getting nic out of that awful place. You don't know how grateful I am to you." "Well, I think that hardly fair," answered the Sergeant accepting her hands but speaking in an offended tone of voice. "I am not much crazier about getting back to that place than you are." "Oh, I beg your pardon," laughed Beth, seeing her mis- take. "If you would really like to come, I am sure Daddy would love to see you." He didn't feel exactly complimented at her final reply, but he decided to make the most of it. Very much before he desired, he found them nearing the neat farm house which was Beth's home. He congratulated him- helf that he had at least succeeded in learning her name and something of her Daddy's disposition. As they came near to the rustic, garden gate, a gray-haired man came out of the door and looked anxiously up and down the road. "There's Daddy," Beth left the Sergeant to come on or to stay out as he saw fit and fleeing up the path, imprisoned her Father in her firm young arms. Amid a shower of kisses she made a disconnected but complete confession. Her wise old Daddy did not say one word of reproach but patted her head tenderly and tried to pay some attention to the belated hero, who had seen fit to get half way through the gate. "Come in, come in," the old man managed to say finally, "and tell me something about yourself. From what I gather you have been very good to my little girl." "My name is Ray Freeborn, Sir. I live in Utah, when I am not in the army, and I did nothing but bring Miss Beth home from a party which she didn't in the least like," he answered briskly, standing at salute and smiling genially. "Either one of these facts is enough to make you very welcome here. I am also originally from that part, and perhaps we are also of the same religious faith. Come in, we'll see if we can't find some fresh cake and a glass of milk, won't we, Betty? I imagine you don't get too much of this over at camp." Sergeant Freeborn sitting in the best arm chair, before a glowing wood fire, with all the cake and milk which he could desire at his disposal, thoroughly believed himself to be the most fortunate man in the army, generals included. Opposite him sat Mr. Miner. Beth had coiled herself on a small stool at his side, her rebellious hair falling round her face, her elbows on her knee and her round chin tilted on her slender fingers.

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Her recent trouble was forgotten for the moment. She was acting the naive but charming hostess to her Father and her new found friend. Negotiations had been started for a chicken dinner the following Sunday. There had been no difficulty in persuading the Sergeant to accept. It took all his will-power plus his military training to tear himself loose that night in order to get back to the barracks before taps. As the glorious Spring days came along, Mr. Miner's chicken coop became sadly depopulated, but the neatly stacked wood pile in his shed assumed astonishing dimensions. In short, Ser- geant Freeborn had become a regular visitor who was not only invited but urged to stay to dinner. Late in April, there came a momentous Saturday night. It was Beth's seventeenth birthday. After hours and hours of persuasion frought with all manner of logic, she had finally consented to celebrate the occasion by going to the dance. Sergeant Freeborn had arrived some minutes since and was impatiently waiting in the front room, fussing with first one legging and then the other. Unexpectedly the door opened and Beth appeared. Even to an unbiased eye she was a charming vision. Her shapely feet were shod in satin slippers, which Daddy had made a special trip to Tacoma to procure. The Sergeant couldn't tell anything about her dress except that it was made of fluffy, pink stuff which seemed to float enchantingly round her. Her — hair well it was just her golden brown, curly hair, and that was enough. Her eyes were shining with excitement and were as gray as her lips were red. The tall, sinewy man would have given all he owned at that instant to have held her in his arms for even a minute. To add to his comfort, she danced up to him and made a deep curtsy at his feet. "Don't I look beautiful?" she asked, teasingly, pirouetting for his inspection. "Daddy gave it to me, and I made my dress all myself." "Do you want me to tell you just how beautiful you do look?" asked the Sergeant challengingly. Beth glanced at him, and catching the expression in his steady, blue eyes, decided that she was on dangerous ground. She immediately hastened over to the mirror to adjust an especially stray lock. The Sergeant laughed the soft laugh which she had learned to love, and assuming a Sir Walter Raleigh attitude, followed her up. When he had reached her side, he swung his army hat to the floor with his right hand, and on his up-turned left, he offered

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her a small velvet box. "May I have the honor, Mademoiselle?" he asked in a most courtly voice. — Beth turned "Is it for me?" she gasped in pure delight. With trembling hands she opened the small box. On the white satin lay two exquisite pink ear bobs. "How perfectly wonderful," she breathed, her shining eyes expressing what her lips could not. "May I?" asked the Sergeant, taking one of them from the box. The poor boy didn't realize what a difficult though joy- ful task he had assumed. He began it by nearly dropping the first ear bob down her neck. Having recovered it just in time, he pulled her hair while trying to get at her ear. His next faux pas was to fasten the little screw too tight for even a. girl's vanity. She assisted him mightily by twisting her head every instant in order to get a better view of the "darling, little pink pearls." In desperation, he threatened to take her away from the mirror altogether unless she would stand still, like a nice girl. In due time, however, both ears were decorated to everybody's satisfaction. "Now, young lady," he said, turning her slowly around and forcing her to face him, "Those buy up all your dances. They are all mine. Do you understand?" The searching smile in his eyes made her blush charmingly and brought all the dimples into play round her mouth. The gentle air of proprietorship which he had assumed, made her heart beat furiously. She did not know that his own heart was pounding until he thought the universe could hear it. "Do you really want all my dances?" she asked looking at him with a wondering expression in her fringed, gray eyes. "It is awfully nice of you to ask me," she continued smiling frankly up at him. was the boy's turn to realize that he was on dangerous It ground. He was wise enough to know he had withstood temp- tation to the limit. "I feel sorry for the fellow who steals any of them, that's all," he answered as he threw a soft scarf round her shoulders. He knew that it was best for them to be on their way, and so he guided her out into the glory of the ;

Spring twilight. An April evening on American Lake, in fair weather, is something for common mortals to dream about. And when two young people are in love in the midst of such nature. Paradise itself is at their feet. So it was with the Sergeant and Beth, as they started their joyful walk down the pine bordered path along the lake. Beneath their feet the rich black earth, carpeted with pine needles, guided their steps as if it had been

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a magic carpet. On their right hand, the placid water sparkled and danced in the slanting rays of the sun, an infinite expanse of violet and green. From the heart of the forest, the rich scent of dogwood and violets in luxuriant bloom drifted to them. Far ahead, Mount Ranier pierced the sapphire sky, a gorgeous pinnacle of rose and emerald snow. "How wonderful," breathed Beth. The Sergeant did not answer but he drew her gently to his side. For the moment the horrible war was forgotten, and the whole world to them was a scene of throbbing joy.

© Underwood & Underwood, New York