The Half-Century Magazine (Vol. I, No. 1, August, 1916)Various
General
The Half-Century Magazine (Vol. I, No. 1, August, 1916)
Various
African Americans -- Periodicals
Early in April the other five girls came to my house to have a good time.
In all the world there is not another bunch of girls who can accumulate
more experiences to the square inch than we of the “Sextette.” Helen
even brought her dog with her. He was a beautiful dog, and as we could
observe, had only two faults. One was that he was such a friendly soul
that he would even hobnob with a burglar, and the other that he sometimes
stayed away two weeks at a time. Thus we called him Dynamite, not because
of any energy or character, but because he was likely to go off at any
time.
One night, when a few callers dropped in, we had a merry chafing dish
supper. When they had gone, we sat down to talk things over. During the
conversation, Dorothy, a very kind and sympathetic girl, suggested that
we give a dinner, and instead of giving it for our own pleasure and
that of our friends, we would give it to some of the poor unfortunates,
who never had any pleasures. We all agreed to do this, and each was to
invite a poor unfortunate one as her guest. Helen and I were to prepare
the dinner, and Ruth, Edyth and Dorothy were to arrange and decorate the
other rooms of the house.
The first guest to arrive was Mrs. Craig, a janitress in the office
building where Dorothy’s father had his office. Next came Helen’s guest,
a little newsboy that sold papers in the block where Helen lived. Then
Dr. Lyons, who was Ruth’s guest, arrived. He explained that as he was
lonesome for warmth and cheer of a real home table, instead of the cold
glitter and ceremonious services of the hotel, Ruth took pity on him,
and invited him to our jolly little party. I don’t know what we would
have done without him, for he had that tact which comes from knowing
and loving people, and he knew just how to fill in the awkward pauses,
which were bound to occur in such a mixed gathering. Edyth selected for
her guest an old man, whom she found lying on a bench in Swope Park. His
scraggly hair and beard, and his smoked glasses left a very little of his
face visible, but there was a suggestion of strength and firmness about
his mouth. I selected for my guest a poor little cripple girl who stayed
all alone at home, while her mother worked hard every day.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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