The Milwaukee Leader

DEAR DIARY ETHELDA BEDFORD
The story of A girl who went to New York for fame and fortune
I FEED GIRL NEXT DOOR!
SUNDAY.
Dear Diary: She was humming with the phonograph... that girl in the next room. .
"I saw you there .. one wonderful day
You took my heart-and threw it away."
Then she was crying as the tune grinded out ..
"That's why I ask the Lawd-in Heaven above
What is this thing called Love ..."
I knocked at the door. No answer. I pushed the door and went in ... the phonograph was playing ... maybe she hadn't heard.
She was lying across the bed .. . coolie coat over a nightgown that had been expensive, perhaps two years ago.
The phonograph was still grinding out . . . "What Is This Funny
Thing Called Love, ."
She was crying so she didn't know I was there until I sat on the bed and touched her.
She looked up..."You're the girl from the next room?" she asked,
rather listlessly.
"Is there something I might do for you . .. are you ill?"
"No," she said ... "but I'm grateful to you."
She tried to smile. Her face was swollen and her eyes red. Her
long fingers moved about her tousled hair nervously.
There were no signs of cooking . .. or food .. . about her room.
I thought she must be hungry ... "Will you come in for some coffee
with me?" I asked. "I can boil an egg for you in a jiffy."
"Are you sure it'll be all right? I mean . . . can you spare it?"
"Of course," I told her. She started to cry again.
The phonograph was running down. It was a portable and sat on
a chair by the bed. She reached over, as if from force of habit, and
wound it, sat the needle at the start again. .
"Bring it into my room, if you like," I thought to humor her.
She was trying to keep her pride, I guessed, not taking me up on
the food.
Finally she came, and after devouring two eggs, three rolls with
butter spread thick and two cups of coffee, she said .
"You were
swell giving me all that ,. I've not eaten for two days."
When her alarm goes off at eight and she goes out ... it has not
been to a job, but to look for one. ..
It seems we have that in common, at least.
I think we are going to be friends. Her name is Sue.
(More Tomorrow.)