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Newspaper Page Text
answer the great question which life
has asked of her:
What is love?
Suppose somebody should ask you
that question all of sudden, wouldn't
you flounder and stutter and perhaps
say as the girl's- fiance did, "Why
love is love that's all. What a silly
question!" and change the subject?
Well that's what the people in the
play do at first, but when they see
how much in earnest their little Lucy
is they try to tell her.
This is what her sister-in-law says:
"It's just a sort of magnetic thrill
that goes through you like like an
apple toddy starts at your finger tips
and goes on till it makes your toes
tingle and then starts on the return
trip gathering volume as it travels till
it envelopes your whole world in a
sunburst of joy!"
Next Lucy confers with Cora, the
little nursemaid who takes care of
her sister's baby. Cora, who appears
not to be more than 17, and con
fesses that she "has never loved the
limit yet," describes the feeling of
kissing by saying: "I was scared to
death but afraid to run! I was
ashamed sort of glad-ashamed!"
Then Lucy, remembering the kiss
from the man to whom she is NOT
engaged, interrupted: "And your
face grew hot, and your heart beat
suffocatingly, and your hand ached
to grip his hand tight, didn't it?"
In the very charming second act of
the play which has set us all to ask
ing what love is, Lucy, at bay be
tween the two men who seek posses
sion of her heart, turns on them both
and calls upon their assembled fami
lies to tell her what they know of
When she asks her eternal ques
tion, "What do you mean by love?"
of the choleric old judge, whose son
she is engaged to marry, he replies,
"Why I mean what people generally
when they are matrimonially in
clined um um when they ex
change views and experiences about
the um matter passion the di-
vine afflatus What do you ask me
such a question for anyhow? I'm
not in love I'm married."
The father of Bobby Hoyt, the
young fellow Lucy really loves, has
no better luck with his definition.
"Love," he stammered, "love used
to impress me as something as
something which made a fellow feel
funny and act foolish. How's that?"
Of course that description of a
man's feelings doesn't help the be
wildered Lucy very much and she
turns to his wife, who says:
"Love is a miracle beyond words,
its thrill beyond analysis. I know that
this great instinct, Love, partakes of
human qualities as well as spiritual
of intellectual comradeship and phy-1
sical attraction one with its pride, (
the other with its subtle spell. Love'
"Love," interrupts the judge's wife,
"is but the perfume, the flower of a
man's life, but it is the dynamo of a
woman's soul and when love goes
wrong the light goes out of her life
not to return!"
What is love? Do any of these
definitions satisfy you?
We marvel over our morning pa
per at a 6-year-old curly head being
picked up out of the wrecked aero
plane brought to earth near St
Quentin by French marksmanship,
and as we speculate on what mad
freak of war took this innocent child
on so desperate a venture, we hope
that his wounds are not serious.
So do we. We sincerely hope this
German infantile aviator fully recov
ers. If it does, the French can show
their magnanimity by restoring to
it its head. This should be done
promptly, however. Nothing could
be sadder than to have the child live
on and on to maturity and have a
6-year-old head restored to it. Specu
lation on such a mad freak of war
would be no name for it