--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 34 number: 2 published: 1930-12 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: "Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations, “The Hand-Me-Down,” *Improvement Era* 34, no. 2 (December 1930): 69–72." source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3402unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera3402unse start_page: 69 end_page: 72 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1930-12) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera3402unse publication_year: 1930 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1930, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # The Hand-Me-Down THE IMPROVEMENT ERA E^E Vol. 34-42 DECEMBER, 1930 No. 2 The Hand-Me-Down T, HE house was a quaint English cottage with a background of straight, dark pines. Against thus dusky setting the gray of the walls and blue- green of the roof stood out with charming, softened clearness. Though the little cottage faced one of the city's newest boulevards, it seemed to have graced that bit of land for at least two hundred years. "I'm disappointed," Anne Blaine, hardly more than a girl, trudging along the snowy walk toward the house, said half aloud. "I thought I'd be home in time today to see the sunshine and frost make cut glass punch bowls of out windows." H< LOWEVER, the sun- light had departed and was fol- lowed by a heavy snow; even the gray twilight had deepened about the little house, leaving with it an air of oppressive loneliness. The neighboring buildings were becom- ing but misty blurs, relieved by squares of light from occasional windows where the shades had not been drawn. Into one of these windows a young mother stepped, with her babe pressed close to her breast. The room was but dimly q3y* RUTH M. MARSHALL lighted by a shaded floor lamp, to which was added the glow of a cozy grate fire. The muffled figure outside paused and gazed longingly at the picture. A young man, evidently the husband and father, joined the little group inside, and as he and the mother looked adoringly at the infant, Anne's gloved hands went impulsively to her heart and she murmured, "Oh, how heavenly!" t)HE stood looking at the picture until she feared the at- tention of the man and woman might be attracted to her, then walked reluctantly toward the lonely cottage. Only in a rear room was there a light. At the sound of her key being fitted clumsily by half frozen hands into an elusive key-hole, hurrying steps were heard inside, A switch clicked. Suddenly the dark house took its rightful place among its neighbors, for from every window a shaft of soft light turned the falling snow to silver. James Randolph Blaine, rising young architect and Anne's hus- band, threw open the. door. Minus his coat and vest, but plus a yellow ruffled apron, he gave unmistakable evidence of having been engaged in the kitchen. "Thanks, Jimmy, for letting me in. I'm frozen." Anne raised her lips, and not in vain, for an affectionate kiss. "Why the dickens didn't you phone me? I left the car out so I Baby could run down for you. It's too far to walk from the tram in this snow." J3Y this time they were in the dainty dining-room where silver and china for two had been laid on the green and cream table. The house was warm, and delicious odors of baking apples and brown- ing steak crept through it. Anne sat down in an easy chair and held up a well formed little foot to- ward her husband. He knelt to remove her galoshes and she kissed lightly his black hair. He repeated his former question. "Why didn't you phone me?" "I did a little shopping, and then — oh, well, Jimmy, you wouldn't understand." He looked at her curiously. There was more than a slight trace of tenderness in his voice as he asked, "What's the trouble, Anne?" She buried her face on his shoul- der. "I saw a girl buying some baby things, and my feelings went on the rampage again." Then as a stern look came over her hus- band's face, she hastened to say, "But I'll snap out of it, dear, so don't worry. There'll be no scene." J. HM'S face became more serene. "Of course there won't, but you'd be a good deal better off, Anne, if you'd forget about such things. We're getting along 70 The Improvement Era for December, 1930 beautifully now. You're making a diet. We've had such a busy band, again in the dainty yellow good at your career, and so am I day. Mrs. Dwight finally decided apron, but realized it would not be at mine. Why not be satisfied?" to part with her machine-carved what-not and the shells her daugh- ter sent her from Catalina. Her house is really lovely now. I've had some delightful compliments from her friends, and it's quite Fresh odors came from the kitchen. "It's an appetizing smell, Jim- my. "I strive to please." The man rushed for the oth- er room. "I forgot about the steak," he said to his wife who had followed him. "Sit down again for a minute or two. I never like to start any- thing I can't fin- ish." Anne resumed her easy chair and wondered how her husband, so sym- pathetic and tender on every other subject in which she was interested could he so indif- ferent about a ba- by. When they were first married it had been other- wise. He, with her, had antici- pated the joy which comes with an offspring, but as time went on with less and less prospect of such a thing, and she had s o r el y grieved about it, his atti- tude had changed. At first she had thought it was out o f consideration for her, that he wanted to make her sorrow less poignant, but as a feather in your wife's profession- time passed she had been forced al cap. "Into one of the windows a young mother stepped" to the conclusion that he really was glad they did not have any B UT even with this I'm glad. You've worked ter- ribly hard at it." Jim was busy serving the steak and trimmings. The meal furnished convincing ev- idence that architecture was not apparent flaw in his character he the only thing in which he was was a dear, she thought, and be- proficient, tween them they had made a beau- tiful home, resembling them both, strong and yet dainty. On every hand was something to match her close cut, curling red hair, round A.NNE was touched by her husband's solicitude. "Sit down and rest, you're tired out. gray eyes and the ivory skin which HI do your share of the clearing so often goes with Titian locks. UP-" he s?ld- In a moment he „ ' „ ; ,; T. was swishing water and soap in All set milady Jim an- the dish nounced. Are you hungry? Anne iongecj to iaugh at the "As hungry as a plump lady on sight of her big. black-haired hus- wise. She knew that few men, even husbands still very much in love, like to be laughed at. So she took the tea-towel from its drawer and rinsed and dried the dishes as Jim washed them. When the kitch- en was shining again, they went into the living- room where the blazing fire on the hearth hissed as an occasional stray snow-flake was lost down the chimney. Anne, curled up in a deep, gray chair, was soon asleep with a sketch pad on her knee. Be- fore losing con- sciousness she was aware that Jim was looking at her with intent and tender eyes. Even in the midst of her dozing she tried to analyze Jim's ad- vice that they should be satisfied with the many comforts which surrounded them instead of longing for the impossible. She was rapidly gaining recogni- tion in the work which she loved, as was Jim also. They had more than enough for all their needs, and usually she was happy and carefree as a child. But for all her childishness, she possessed a motherly little heart, and motherhood, the thing she want- ed more than all else, it seemed was never to be hers. Jim, though as affectionate as a man could be, seldom noticed children any more and did not like to have the subject mentioned in his presence. Just the night before, Tom Duane's youngster next door had howled with the colic and Jim had burrowed deeper in his blankets, apparently thank- ful that such distracting joys were not for him. The Improvement Era for December, 1930 71 Tf HE next night as Anne was leaving the office, she met Dr. Osborne, her father's life- long friend. He greeted her as her father would have done. 'You're looking well, young lady." "I am well. You'll never have an income tax to pay because of my poor health," laughed Anne. "Still making new houses out of old ones?" 'Yes, and in doing it I'm mak- ing a great reputation for myself." Then her voice became troubled. "But I've reached the divide every married working woman must come to sooner or later, I guess. I want my work and I want my home, and I can't have both." "You have had both so far, Anne." "In a way, yes, but only be- cause Jim does more than his share. We can afford to pay a good house- keeper, but when we tried that it seemed to be more her house than mine." "Well, that's not a medical problem, and I'll not attempt to solve it. Come with me and I'll drive you home. I have a call to make out in your direction." Hi .E led the way to his parked car. "It's really a shame that you can't have children, Anne. Twins would have settled your trouble permanently." Anne's smile was wistful. "Life is strange sometimes," continued the doctor thoughtfully. "You want children and can't have them, and I've just, left a young mother who has a per- fect baby and finds him a decided handicap to what she thinks is a good time." "She doesn't want a baby that is her own?" Anne was incredulous. "Will she give him away?" Even as she spoke Anne realized into what trouble her impul- sive red head was leading her. Here was a mother with a baby that was not wanted, and here was Anne who wanted a baby as a starving person wants food. "The mother asked me to look for a home for him." "Please give him me," Anne's eyes shining, and she was trembling with excite- ment. "Why, Anne, I hadn't thought of that. Will Jim want him?" "Maybe not. But I do, more than I want anything else in the world, and I'm not going to ask Jim." to were "James Randall Blaine threw open the door" T put the HE kind old doctor a strong, warm arm around The tender act for her and she think, young baby His father was a promising chap who died before the was born. The mother, a excited girl was too much sobbed her heartache out on a shoulder that was used to bearing the burdens of others. The car drew up Httle English cottage, few soothing words started to drive away. "Wait a minute!" Anne. The brakes screamed and the big car skidded as it came to a sudden halt. Anne ran to the door. "Is my baby a boy or a girl?" "Good heavens! I thought I'd run over you. It's a boy with hair the color of yours. They haven't taken the trouble to name him yet, just called him Buddy. So you can name him James, Jr., or any- thing else you want. It's just like going into a store and buying before the and after a the idoctor shrieked somewhat frivolous girl, is now getting into bad company and should not have the child. She had to go to work after her hus- band's death and left the baby with relatives who can not care for him any longer, and now, rather than assume the burden her- self, up. she is willing to give him A.NNE, astonished at her own boldness in agreeing to take the "hand-me-down" baby, subdued her rising fears. "I'll see him tomorrow, and don't you dare give him to anyone else." "Don't worry. I'd rather see you and Jim have him than any- one else in the world." That night was a sleepless one for the prospective mother. Jim, she knew, would be glad to let her keep the baby, but he must Anne a ready made, hand-me-down suit love little Jimmy too, and the re- of clothes." collection of his coldness on the "How old is he?" subject of children made the chills "Plenty old enough to be run up and down her back. named, about a year, I should She finally fell asleep through 72 The Improvement Era for December, 1930 weariness and dreamed of a red- gold baby head. Any doubts of her own love were buried in a deep grave when she went with Dr. Osborne to see the baby. He was an attractive cherubic child with thick golden ringlets covering a lovely little head, deep wondering blue eyes and hands like unfolding pink holly- hocks. Young Jimmy laughed at Anne and bestowed big moist kisses upon her. He pulled her hair, and soon wiggled his plump little self deep into her heart. Anne held him so tightly that he cried, and she delightedly kissed him into calm content again. "How can you stand to give him up?" she asked the mother. There was rather frank contempt in Anne's voice. The blue eyes, so like the baby's, clouded with tears for a second. "Oh, I'll miss him. He's sweet as he can be and so cute, but I don't know how to take care of him, and I don't want to learn." So Jimmy was to be ready for his new home in one week. Bi A, »-FTER leaving the cheap little flat that reeked of gin and smoke, Anne spent the rest of the afternoon and several weeks' salary in the baby's department of her favorite shop. She bought pink, blue, green and yellow rompers, slippers and stockings and small fleecy sleepers. Then she went home to another restless night. After dinner Anne snuggled close to Jim as they sat before the fire. "Dearest, wouldn't you be hap- pier if we had children?" She waited for the answer with a swiftly beating heart. "Why, Anne, you know I like youngsters well enough, but there are a lot of advantages in not having them. It's much easier for us to get out, and then there's our work." "But you would like one if we had it, wouldn't you?" "Anne, I know how you would like a baby, but you mustn't think about it so much. It does you a lot of harm and no good. Can't you find a new dream for that old one?" Jim took the troubled girl in his arms and kissed her bright hair, while she sobbed for- lornly on his shoulder. He did not want a baby and probably never would, she concluded. >UT, though she might shed tears, Anne was not one to relinquish a determination once it had been decided upon, and there- fore she planned to bring her baby home on Christmas eve. It was Star of Evening, CLEAR and luminous, calm and white. Set deep in the soft, dark robe of night, The Evening Star tike a jewel gleams — ■ Waking old memories, half -dead dreams Of a Star o'er Bethlehem. With a cool, sweet breath from realms above The wind of night fans the Star of love As it trails a glory through the skies — A glory such as once filled the eyes Of Mary at Bethlehem. Its celestial beauty has .humbled me ■ The radiant glow of its purity Has filled my soul with a holy awe — Like the very Star the Wise Men saw As they came to Bethlehem. It sinks in a flame of virgin fire, Purging my heart of all weak de- sire, Stripping my soul and leaving it bare Of everything but a wordless prayer To the Babe of Bethlehem. O God, send thy breath that puri- fies To rend the veil from our blinded eyes, To sweep our minds of their grime and dust, To cleanse our hearts of their sor- did lust; And light our souls from thy throne afar That we may be worthy to see thy Star. — Ruth B. Musser. with serious misgivings that she awoke on the morning of that eventful day. The world was glorious with feathery white snow which made the little cottage look like a picture on an old Christmas card. "Anne," called Jim, "it's eight o'clock; you'll have to hurry." "I'm not going to the office today." "Are you ill?" Jim's voice in- dicated deep concern, and it eased Anne's pain slightly. Her mirror showed that she really did not look very well, for she had slept but little during the past week. Tired eyes revealed the strain she had been under. "I'm all right." She laughed nervously. "Oh Jim, I'm afraid you won't like your present." "But haven't I always liked my presents? Why should this one be an exception?" "But it is so very different from the others, Jimmy dear." "Well, stop worrying about it. I always did like surprises." "And it's a good thing you still like them." Anne could not help smiling as she thought of what a great surprise was in store for him. After he had gone she slumped into a beautifully finished Windsor chair and held her aching head in her hands. "Oh, what a day we have before us, young Jimmy." Wi HEN the new father, blissfully unconscious of his par- enthood, reached home that night the baby was safely hidden in the guest-room. Anne was dressed in her best green crepe frock, and the table was set with violets in a silver bowl and periwinkle blue candles in lovely candlesticks. The violets lacked the fragrance of those that would grow in the garden of the little cottage when the spring came. The dinner was made up of Jim's favorite dishes. Anne knew, after five years of married life, that shocks must not be present- ed to husbands until after they had been well fed. Even at that, young Jimmy would be a shock to the best fed men. "Do you feel better, honey?" Jim asked solicitously. 'Yes, I'm all right now. Aren't you hungry?" "You bet I am, and I smell soup like mother never made." Dinner was well under way when an unmistakable gurgle came from the bedroom. Anne looked at Jim in alarm, but he hadn't heard the sound. He was carving the roast when the sound was repeated, this time much louder. Jim paused and Anne's heart slapped noisily against her ribs. "What was that?" "What do you mean?" Anne's questioning eyes were big and al- most too innocent. "Sounded like a baby." [Continued on page 114]