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Show The Married Life of Helen end Warren I, By MABEL HERBERT URNER n Originator of "Their Married Life," Author of "The Journal of a Neglected Wife," "The Woman Alone," etc I Helen Is Fascinated and Warren Bored by a Trip to the London Rag Market (Copyright, 1915, by the McCiure Newspaper Syndicate.) "I'm a chump to let you drag me i way out here," grumbled Warren, as ! tViir n-ont iir tllA I I f straggling street. "Too late to seo anything anyhow." "Oh. we can see a lot before dark," enthused Helen. "And we may never nev-er have another chance." "W e 1 1, there's nothing that looks like a market around here. That boob said straight on to the top dently the approved method of rag-market rag-market shopping. Helen determined to try it. "How much?" when farther on she saw an old ruby-glass scent bottle. "Half crown, lady, that's just givin' it away. Nice little bit, eh?" "I'll take it for two shillings," ventured ven-tured Helen. "It's yours, m'um. Anything else? Got 'em all down to war prices." "I may come, back this way later," murmured Helen, wondering if she had offered too much. She might have gotten got-ten it for one and six. "Hello, dug up anything?" She started to find Warren beside her. "Oh, what have you got?" looking at a bulging bundle under his arm. "Never you mind. Doing a little looting on my own." "Dear, you know you mustn't pay what they ask first, don't you?" anxiously. anxi-ously. "They all ask more than they expect to get." "See here," testily, "who's doing this? You go ahead and buy your own junk. If I see anything I want I'll get it." Helen turned away vaguely troubled. He might buy something foolish and pay an absurd price. Perhaps they should have stayed together. The next moment she was absorbed in a particularly alluring lot from which she finally selected an ivory fan, broken but not past mending, a cameo pin and a curious jade locket. After some bargaining she got the three pieces for only seven shillings. It was dusk now, and oil lights flickered flick-ered over many of the stalls. It was a weird scene this great dark market space, lit only by those flaring lamps. Some of the men were now packing up, but many were still shouting their wares, eager for a few last shillings. At a stand farther on Helen found an old sampler. It was dated 1768, with a quaint house-and-tree design. Did this man know its value. Her heart beat fast at the possibility of getting it for a few shillings. "Twenty-five shillings," he answered an-swered gruffly, as he went on packing. "Yer'd poy three guineas at one o' yer Bond Strait shops." So he did know. 'Helen's hopes fell. "Oh, 1 couldn't pay more than twelve," she murmured. "Five-and-twenty's thu price, m'ura. Take it or lave it." Helen flushed indignantly, yet she wanted the sampler. She passed on slowly, hoping he would' call after her. Where was Warren? She turned suddenly to look along the opposite line of stalls. It was quite dark now. What if they should get separated? Her ryes strained anxiously through that shabby, jostling crowd. A long panic-stricken moment. Then she saw him a few stalls back. "Oh!" running to him with joyous relief. "I thought I'd missed you." "Had enough? Let's get out of this. Which gate did we come in?" Outside, Helen looked back over the dimly-lit market. They had been through only a small part of it, and she thought longingly of the undiscovered undis-covered treasures in all those other stal's. They made their way back through the dark, squalid street to the underground. under-ground. When they entered the train Helen glanced anxiously at Warren's bulky package. What had he bought? Remembering certain purchases he had made in the past, she mistrusted his judgment. "Want to see it now, eh? All right, we'll give you a treat." He took off the crumpled newspaper and proudly displayed a garish shell box with a mirror on top! Helen gulped. It was awful! "Pretty good haul, eh?" fitting a loose shell in its red paste bed. "Old one too. How about that for ten shillings?" Ten shillings! If he could throw away ten shillings on this ghastly thing why hadn't Bhe bought that sampler? "What's the matter," sharply. "Don't like it?" "Oh, yes yes," hastily. "I was only thinking of an old sampler that I'm sorry I didn't get." With well feigned carelessness, Warren felt in his pocket. "That it?" tossing a small package into her lap. Helen tore it open, and with a cry of delight held up the sampler. "Oh, you dear, you dear! But how did you know?" "Was right there behind you." In her joy over the sampler, the awful aw-ful box was forgotten. "Now how about this?" Warren took it up again. "Think it bum, eh? Well, if it'll make you feel any better I only paid a 'bob.' Thought it would he worth that," with a chuckle, "to see you glare at It." "Oh!" with mingled relief and re-F.rntment. re-F.rntment. "You spent a shilling just "To get you going. Had to have some fun out of this blooming trip, didn't I?. Come on, we get off here," as they drew into Charing Cross. , iici c ci mat o. Mabel Herbert "Dear that must Urner. be it'" PomtlnS t0 an old iron gateway gate-way that showed just ahead. Ever since Mrs. Hodgson had told them the wonder of the Caledonian rag market, Helen had been determined deter-mined to come. She had finally persuaded per-suaded Wrarren to meet her early and go with her this aflernon. The underground had brought them out in twenty minutes, and they planned to see the . market and get back to London in time for dinner. They had reached the end of the street now, and Helen caught, her breath at the scene before them. In a great fenced-in space was a mass of stalls, horses, w:agons and a motley swarm of people. The rag market! The Caledonian rag market! To Helen, who reveled in rummaging through old things, the very name was enticing. The dusty windows of every antique or even second-hand shop held for her alluring possibilities. And now to explore this famous old rag market! "Huh, this is a rum place," sniffed Warren. "Where'd they get all this junk?" "Listen dear," shaking his arm excitedly. ex-citedly. "Let's start here, and go up one lane and down the other so we won't miss a thing." There were no regular stalls. Everything Ev-erything was spread out on the ground on old pieces of carpet or sheeting, and back of each lot was a ramshackle ram-shackle cart and the patient donkey or horse that had drawn it. "Yer own price, lady," urged the man as Helen paused before an amazing amaz-ing mass of odds and ends everything every-thing from old jewelry to old shoes. "Business brisk in glass eyes today?" to-day?" Warren poked his cane at a box of artificial eyes. "You've got a full line there assorted colors." "Yes, sir," grinned the man, "take yer choice tuppence each." By the next lot sat an old woman as weird as her stock. There were a tin foot-tub, a globe for goldfish, a clothes wringer, a bronze Atlas shouldering shoul-dering a clock, a plush album, and irons, old lace, a bedraggled feather boa, a rusty rat trap, and odd pieces of old pewter, china and brass. "Dear, did you ever play that game where they carried around a lot of things on a tray, and you wrote them down from memory?" "Be a tough job remembering these," chuckled Warren. "Where in blazes does all this junk come from that's what gets me." "Oh, London's so wonderful jt's full of old things. And thin rag market is only on Fridays." "The week's collection, eh? Ah, here we are!" Warren swung his cane over a ba ;ket of false teeth. "May need 'em some day. How about laying in a supply?" "Oh, how awful! Do people really-" "Sell mo a good upper set cheap today?" to-day?" asked V.'airen. But the man, resenting this face-tiousness, face-tiousness, glared at him angrily. "Dear, don't make fun, and don't poke at things with your cane," whispered whis-pered Helen. "Some of them don't like it." "Who cares?" shrugged Warren "You just pounce on the freakish things. There's lot3 of interesting tilings here I know there are. Dear, you go along that side while I stay 011 this. Mrs. Hodgpon said we shouldn't be together anyway they'll think we're American touriits and put up the prices." "All right, suit yourself. Only I'm not going to haug around a woman long." At a stall just, beyond a woman was haggling over the price of an old bluo meat platter. Helen, interested, drew nearer. "I'll give you one and six." "Two hob, m'um, not a penny less." The woman shook her head, laid down the platter and started off. "Take it along for one and a tanner,'' tan-ner,'' be called after her. "My two sons is in the war, lady. Let a poor man make enough tj feed their kid-ties kid-ties ' The woman stolid y put the platter r ' ' i" nuge "hoppi'i- b:ig. and Helen 1 her keenly observant She ner buy a lace scarf, a de-I de-I ;. candle, tick, paying not ralf the prices usked. ''-'- Hiing, f- r It was eri-1 |
