Page 16 - Stepping_Stones_1942
P. 16
a newspaper there. But as she had always wanted to see the
world before she settled down to be married, she and another
girl had decided to go to the Orient and, perhaps, if their stories
were good enough, their editor would let them continue on
a round-the-world tour. She told us her name—which we soon
forgot— for we called her Ginger because we thot she lived up
to all that name implies.
The other girl, Ginger said, “ backed down at the last mo
ment,” so she decided to go alone. She had had a grand trip,
had no time for loneliness, and at no time had she been molested .
because she was a young girl traveling alone; in fact, she had
met such wonderful people who were always trying to do some
thing for her— which we likewise found ourselves doing, not
only then, but later.
She was such a happy-go-lucky person, full of fun to the
brim, and out for a lark. ’Midst her chatter, she told us she
must stop at the next station and go to her compartment on
the train, to write her news letter home, and also, the one which
she wrote every day to the one-and-only man— Bill. We learned
lots about Bill who, according to her, was “ the handsomest and
grandest man in the world,” and, she confided, they were to be
married as soon as she arrived home. We grew to like Bill, too
— she was so full of her gay love for him, and the romantic side
of her youth amused and thrilled us.
On parting, we told her to look us up in Peking, which she
promised to do, but as she was only going to be there a week or
ten days, and as our days in Peking were very full, we did not
meet. Ginger was anxious to get to Shanghai, for there she
was to find out from her “boss” if she could continue her trip.
We often talked about her, and were sorry to have missed her,
but in time she sort of faded into memory, for we had busy
days ahead.
Six weeks later, as we were breakfasting at the Astor Hotel
in Shanghai, whom should we see seated at the table opposite
us, with her back toward me, but— Ginger. I called to her, and
very soon we were renewing our acquaintance. She said that
she never was so glad to see anyone in her life as “ the trio” —
as she called us. After the first questions and answers had
passed, we asked her how in the world she was still there in
Shanghai. She then told us the story:
[ 14]
world before she settled down to be married, she and another
girl had decided to go to the Orient and, perhaps, if their stories
were good enough, their editor would let them continue on
a round-the-world tour. She told us her name—which we soon
forgot— for we called her Ginger because we thot she lived up
to all that name implies.
The other girl, Ginger said, “ backed down at the last mo
ment,” so she decided to go alone. She had had a grand trip,
had no time for loneliness, and at no time had she been molested .
because she was a young girl traveling alone; in fact, she had
met such wonderful people who were always trying to do some
thing for her— which we likewise found ourselves doing, not
only then, but later.
She was such a happy-go-lucky person, full of fun to the
brim, and out for a lark. ’Midst her chatter, she told us she
must stop at the next station and go to her compartment on
the train, to write her news letter home, and also, the one which
she wrote every day to the one-and-only man— Bill. We learned
lots about Bill who, according to her, was “ the handsomest and
grandest man in the world,” and, she confided, they were to be
married as soon as she arrived home. We grew to like Bill, too
— she was so full of her gay love for him, and the romantic side
of her youth amused and thrilled us.
On parting, we told her to look us up in Peking, which she
promised to do, but as she was only going to be there a week or
ten days, and as our days in Peking were very full, we did not
meet. Ginger was anxious to get to Shanghai, for there she
was to find out from her “boss” if she could continue her trip.
We often talked about her, and were sorry to have missed her,
but in time she sort of faded into memory, for we had busy
days ahead.
Six weeks later, as we were breakfasting at the Astor Hotel
in Shanghai, whom should we see seated at the table opposite
us, with her back toward me, but— Ginger. I called to her, and
very soon we were renewing our acquaintance. She said that
she never was so glad to see anyone in her life as “ the trio” —
as she called us. After the first questions and answers had
passed, we asked her how in the world she was still there in
Shanghai. She then told us the story:
[ 14]
