OldTown Wil Its Deprtin They Came at Their Country's Call, They Worked and Helped Capital in Its War Drives. Well, the war workers will soon be going. Already the thinning-out proc­ess has commenced. Already the girls in some branches of the government have begun to receive the little ques­tionnaires asking if they prefer to leave at once or if they'd rather stay on as long as work can be found for them. "Do you know," declared one "Old In- hab.".yesterday morning, "I think the old I town will kind of miss them-their hur- j rying morning crowds, their youth, their j usually entirely unsuitable working ap- , parel, their long and good-natured lines outside of restaurants. And when it comes to raising money, O boy! you bet they'll be missed. Remember what these salaried, and none too high-salaried, young people-mostly young women- did in the various drives, ending with the war work push just finished? I'll say they came across." Quota Raising Made Easier. They did, and that's a fact They helped the old (or rather new) capital reach its quota on more than one occa­sion. Perhaps the quota was put at a little higher figure because of their pres­ence; but, like a high jumper when the bar is raised, they summoned an extra effort and cleared it. And they worked. There is no doubt of that, according to their superiors. Seldom were complaints heard about overtime. Some didn't have enough to do at times, but others had more than enough and did it. Now many of them are to be turned loose without work, and, although lots came for experience or from purely patriotic motives, many came for the jobs and the $1,000 and $1,100 salaries. Some had families to support. Along that line one of them who re­sides here permanently makes a good suggestion, namely, that those who really need the money be kept on the job longest. Another suggestion that sounds valuable is that those with j school-teaching experience be given a chance to recruit the depleted ranks of Washington's public school staff. Could Not Save Much. Everybody knew the work was tem­porary, yet high prices, both caused by and suffered by these workers, have | largely prevented them from saving dur- | ing the few months they have been here. "It may be as well," another "cave- dweller" said, "to remember, after all, j no matter what the exact actuating mo- i tive, the fact remains that they came at the call of their country. And they left ! behind them far pleasanter surroundings j than they found. Home and Christmas I holidays are uppermost in their minds, ' and who can blame them?" The matter of giving each girl two weeks' pay and transportation home has not yet been officially decided. Petitions for this concession have come from sev­eral departments. Mr. Baruch, chair­man of the War Industries Board, it is understood, has notified employes under him that, if resigning at once, they would receive these concessions and also letters of recommendations. Lydia Lee Pearce of the supply branch of the industrial educational section of j the administration division of the ord- lj nance department of the War Depart- I ment (will she be able to recall all that in future years?) has summed the prop­osition pretty well in the following brief verses: "They Also Serve- There's another group of soldiers. Not the ones in khaki dressed, Who responded to the colors When the need for workers pressed. They poured in from town and country. All urged by their country's call, Came in thousands to this city-- Uncle Sam had need for alL Now we trust the war Is over. For the armistice is signed, And the thousands of war worked Still work on or have resigned. Theirs is not the wreath of victory. Nor the people's loud hurrahs, let they feel a glow of glory. For they, too, worked for the cause. glad to see them go? I suppose you will have to say, "Yes," for it would never do for you who are so imposing and aristocratic and, oh! so correct, to. admit that you are even a tiny bit lonesome for the army of young girls that descended upon you almost over­night. They must have given you quite a start. It was like the man of the house inviting guests for dinner and then forgetting to tell his wife. You see, Uncle Sam asked them to come, and they joyfully accepted his invi- : tation. And when they arrived they found you the much surprised and j very indignant hostess. But didn't you grow to like them, j just a little? And when, they have gone home to New Hampshire and Georgia, to Texas or California, and you've settled back into your staid I and dignified old ways, won't you i sometimes dream of those months I when they laughed and worked and , played in your midst? Don't believe all that you heard about them, because it wasn't so. ; Some of it was true about a few of them, but some of it wasn't true about any of them. They'd like to be approved of just a little. For even though they pretended not to care when people said, "Oh, those war workers!" they did get tired of bein;; frowned upon. Why They Came to Washington. Why did they come? They won'! !: tell that to every one. Just to have j I a part, however small, in the "crowd­ed hour" of the world. It wasn't for the high salaries, or for the excite­ment and change. Perhaps they I weren't clever at rolling bandages knitting socks; but they did know how to click the'r typewriters and tc make their pencils gy over the pages. And so, when Uncle Sam asked foi their help they came. You've probably heard the joke about the war workers coming for a rest and a, change, and then having to give the change to the street car conductors, and the rest to the land­lady. There was more truth than poetry in that. And there isn't a stenographer or typist or file clerk who won't be on hand for the next war to keep roomers. The high salaries didn't go for pretty clothes and pleasures, either. After each pay day there was no end to the long line that waited before the monev order- window in the post offices. Those mone;- orders were gTngrTrome to mothers' in busy citXe of New England, in lit.tle towns of the j south or in scattered villages on the ! western plains. You didn't like the way they dress- | ed. and sometimes you scored there j But when you remember the over­dressed ones and the shabby ones don't forget those who came to work in neat little business suits or trirr j blue serge dresses. Maybe they had j missed a whole hour of their beauty | sleep the night before just to wash and iron those frilly white cuffs and collars,- And, anyway, I could tell you about a little girl whose shoes were shabby and coat threadbare because she was sending- most of that high salary to a hardworking mother and a crippled father at home. And I could tell you • the story of another little girl whom you criticised for the bright spot of rouge on each cheek. She did that so 110 one would know she'd spent an- j ! other whole night crying because ; there hadn't been a letter from over- i seas for weeks and weeks. You thought they were irresponsi- I ble and flighty. You said they didn't | attend to business. Some of them I didn't, but not all. In that dark | spring of 1918 they worked early and i late, and even when their typewriters rapped away into the night they didn't complain. When the armistice came of course the strain lessened And they wouldn't have been human if once in a while they hadn't skipped work to see a matinee, or gone shop- , ping- on sick leave, or left their desks for a few minutes' visit with a chum in the rest room. Yes, They Were Everywhere. They were everywhere, and maybe you thought they rushed in where angels feared to tread. If they did it was just out of sheer joy at being in so beautiful a city. Don't forget that some of them came from little < country places, where the only at- j traction was a movie every Saturday night, and others from dreary little towns unbeautified by green parks and great spreading trees like those which border the Ellipse. Of course they went everywhere. They invaded Peacock Alley like a young army, they filled the streets after 4:30 in the afternoon, they hung on the straps in street cars, they crowded the restaurants, they went j window-shopping along F street, and 1 they laughed and pushed in the long j lines outside the picture theaters. ' They were curious and eager, but j don't say they were unappreciative. i No one of them who saw the lighted j Capitol dome on armistice night. ! glistening after the long months of i war-time darkness, will ever forget ; it. Nor will they forget the spring days when the basin was edged with the pink and white of the Japanese cherry trees. There won't be much left of those high Salaries for them to take back home, but they will take something infinitely more precious. But, it's good-bye, now, dear old Washington. What if you should find that it is only a quiet, leisurely dream you must return to? And that in those months when you were filled with throngs of young people you Hwere really wide awake? ALISON BROWN, 715 East 1st Street, Duluth, Minn.