Argosy All-Story Weekly — "The Purple Limited" — page 42: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

668 basin and sluiced ber face and sack. Celd water, soap and a brisk three minutes with a towel and she not only leoked better, but, mere important still, she felt better. -She was better. The immediate effect was a recantation of the vague resolves she had formed dur- ing the night. She had told herself that she would never see Artie Falwell again. That she would not go to the Mog. That— well, there was a company of good thoughts that directly she felt her bueyancy return- ing, went into the discard. Naturaly, her position had not altered: she was still without money, still a bit shaken in her nervous system; but her view-point had shifted toward the cardinal point of self-excuse and self-pity. A great old kidder is self-pity. By this drummer of the mind we can sell ourselves all sorts of sparing excuses. Reason is counterfeited, and deliberately falsified views are adapted to the desires. Julie bad no breakfast and there was a taste a great deal nastier than a young girl should have in her mouth; but by nine o’clock she had fully equipped herself with defense against any left over doubts and troubles of her mind. After all—was it , not a ridiculous idea to even think of break- ' ing her date with Artie for that evening? At least she would get something to eat and pass the time away pleasantly. Of course she would not think of borrowing any money from him. That would be a dreadful thiag to do, but if he liked to spend five or ten dollars on her. Why not? And what a silly thing it was to have thought of telling her landlady she had had her money stolen by some slick pick- pocket. Would that old woman feel serry for her and lend her a dollar or two until next Friday? Of course not. Landladies have no heart. All they want is their room rent. ‘‘ And here she is for. it,” muEined Julie to herself when, an hour later, a tap came at her door. “ Come,” she called and sat on the edge of her bed prepared to act . on the defensive. - “You know the rules of the house, don’t you?” said Mrs. Bruce when she came in. “I don’t allew no animals.” ARGOSY- ALISTORY WEEKLY. “ Sure. That's righE, but it was oaly a little kitten. Poor little thing. I found it. Half starved. Anyway, I don’t case now. You've turned it out and that’s an end of it.” - . All right, but don’t do it again. The rules has got to be obeyed. I ain’t got no time to ’tend to starving cats or dogs. . Bad enough as it is to clean up ané@ no help to be got for love ner money.” Julie’s lip curled a Tittle as she locked at her landlady’s broad, rather expressien- less face. It was only natural that a we- man like her would turn a poer little kitten out. Nothing else could be expected. Quite as an aside, it may be mestioned that at that particular moment, the kitten was saugly curled up on the seat of Mrs. Bruce’s favorite chair. Lots of peeple who are supposed to be grumpy and heattiess, are obliged, in self-defense, to put up a forbidding “front.” Ht is only necessary to imagine what would happen if twenty- five or thirty roomers all kept cats and dogs. Mrs. Bruce backed toward the doer: “It’s a mice morning,” she observed. ‘“‘ Going out? A breath of fresh air would do you good. You look kimda pale to me. Being shut up in a’ office all week, that’s what does it.” Julie nodded. ‘I s’pose so,” she agreed. “T de feel a bit tired. Went to a show last mght—with a girl frem the office.” -~ “Yes—you was late, wasn’t your? & heard you come in. Thought maybe you'd come down as usual, though.” “Sorry,” said Julié with a curt, defiant note in her voice. next week., I—lost al my money. Every cent. Stelen out of my bag. You den’t have to worry, though. I’ve always paid . reg’lar, and you’l get it next-Sat’day.” Offensiveness gives offense. Like Simon the Cellarer, Mrs. Bruce may have kept a good store by her. She may have had some of the unamiable traits of her class. Ghe may have had a leaning for talking of the days when her poor husband was alive. She may have been tart and blunt, and she was certainly not very pleasing to leok upon. Her clothes were untidy, her hande, red and work-marred. She had a skeptical eye. Yet, all this did net dull her ear, or comichdoks.co “TH have to pay you