Oregon daily emerald. (Eugene, Or.) 1920-2012, March 08, 1946, FIRST SECTION, Page 28, Image 28

Below is the OCR text representation for this newspapers page. It is also available as plain text as well as XML.

I’ll Wait for You
By Fred Beckwith
As he toyed with his drink, Mark
Sterling thought of the reason why
he was here—at the Sand-Bar,
five o’clock, on this Saturday af
ternoon in September. His brain
raced back two years through a
Sea of events that even now
seemed like distant memories.
Then, as now, he was having a
drink at one of the tables by the
window that looked over the pound
ing surf.
But two years ago, there was a
beautiful girl at his table. She was
Sandra Lewis, who, at twenty-one,
had captured the hearts and atten
tion of a fabulous group of young
men. Sandra Lewis—with her au
burn hair and green eyes and with
that quiet, enamoring personality.
He and Sandra had talked a
good deal that afternoon.
Finally Sandra had said: “Mark,
let’s leave it this way. You know
how I hate goodbyes. I’m not going
to see you off at the train tomor
“I don’t know when I'll be able
to see you again. The army does
n’t hand' out furloughs too often.”
“Perhaps it’s better that way,
Mark. And no letters, please.”
“What is this, a complete fade
“Not at all. I’m not exactly sure
how I feel about you. Maybe you
have the wrong slant on me, too.
I want you to make a promise,
“Depends on what it is . . . .”
“Meet me here, on the same
spot, at 'five* o'clock, two years
from now. A few months in ad
vance of that date, if you're sure
you can’t keep the appointment,
write me and let me know'. . .
“But, damn it, Sandra, that's
"I have my reasons, darling. I
want to know just how much I’m
going' to miss you. I want to know
exactly what you mean to me.”
“This is a very peculiar way to
find out.”
“I’m sorry Mark, but that’s the
way it’s got to be.”
Ami so Mark Sterling' had left
for an army camp the next day,
and the last thing he had remem
bered was the faint smell of San
dra's perfume when they parted.
He had put her in a taxi and that
was goodbye .for she had not come
to the train to see him off.
A year later, Mark had had his
taste of war. Bits of shell frag
ment had lodged in his left arm,
and although they were extracted,
that member of tiis body was def
initely crooked and a little foreign
when put to practical use. They
gave him a medical discharge, and
he came home. But he hadn’t writ
ten to Sandra. He had thought a
lot about her. He had been on the
verge of writing a letter dozens
and dozens of times, but some
force always restrained this move.
Even when ho got home, he
made no attempt to communicate
with Sandra. After a couple of
attempts at taking a vacation, he
finally secured himself a job with
a construction company and moved
out of town.
.... This was the first time he
had been in the Sand-Bar since
that time two years ago. Will she
show up? he asked himself as he
lit a cigarette. He glanced at his
watch. Two minutes before five,
t mustn’t appear excited, lie told
himself. I'll try to appear casual.
But all these thoughts were lost
hi a swirl of emotion as the au
burn-haired- loveliness that was
notice the army lieutenant who
was by her side. The pair approach
ed Mark’s table, and Mark rose
and said, “Won’t you sit down?”
“Ted, this is an old friend of mine.
Mark Sterling. Mark, this is Ted
Hubbard, my husband.”
“Glad to know you.” The words
fell from Mark's mouth like so
many bricks.
“The feeling is mutual,” return
ed Sandra’s husband. He added,
“Let me order us some drinks.
What will you have?”
“Scotch, thanks.”
Sandra had taken off her fur
wrap and was casually looking
around the room.
“The place hasn't changed much,
has it?” she asked.
“Then you haven’t been here,
either, since . . . .” Mark couldn't
finish the sentence.
“Oh, that’s all right, Mark. Ted
knows everything.” After the
waiter had brought the drinks,
Ted said:
“I’ll leave you two alone for
awhile. I’ve got a phone call to
make.” As he spoke, he moved to
his feet, and headed for the phone
booth at the other end of the room.
When he left, Sandra bent eag
erly forward and said: “Mark, try
to understand. I made a terrible
mistake. I’m not in love with Ted.
Two years was such a long time.
1 had no word from you . . . .”
Mark smiled a bit grimly. “It
was your idea, Sandra,” he said.
“I know, I know. But I didn’t
think you’d be a big enough fool
to carry it out to the letter. I
thought I was being sophisticated.
I never knew how much you meant
to me, until after you had gone.
Tonight, I took a desperate gam
ble. I prayed that you might be
here. T told Ted the whole story,
because I felt I had to.”
iviaiK look a long urag on ms
cigarette. “Excuse me, Sandra, I
have to make a phone call, too.”
He left her, and he turned quickly
from the sight of that hurt look in
her eyes. He entered the phone
booth at. just about the time Ted
Hubbard left it. Inserting a nickel
in the pay-slot he dialed his num
ber and after a moment's pause,
said: “Hello, Helen, is that you,
darling ? This is Mark. I'll be home
for dinner, after all. No, nothing
important. Just a little unfinished
business I had to attend to. Yes,
dear, I'll be home before that
steak burns.”
Ah'v cum from Oklahomah, plumb
O-re-gone to live.
And Ah guess it's sho-nuff true
That the place is just a sieve.
Fo jus' a little sunshine
Ah had hoped with all mail
Ah went to th' weathah bureau,
An' th' man gave me this chart:
On Sunday it will rain:
We sin ely won’t have snow.
On Monday, 'midst the drizzle.
Might shine a moment or so.
On Tuesday it will pour
To keep water levels high.
On Wednesday a slight mist.
As the gloomy clouds hang' by.
On Thursday 'twill be frosty.
The air: sharp,'cold and clear.
On Friday blackened skies again,
'Twill rain 'ere night, I fear.
When Saturday comes rollin' round
The ground will be right wet; !
The hours
Speed by and fall
Off the edge of the world
The fire
Blazes yellow
Tiny red sparks simmer.
Repeat themselves
And Spring is past, lost . . .
Death gropes forward,
Twisting and gasping,
As it gains a subtle grip
Upon the burdened world.
There is a lilting fragrance
Caught in the air of a past decade;
Seen in the simple beauty of an
evening sky—■
Left over reflections from a joyous
—Jeanne Wiltshire.
Ad Infinitum
From deep in the Universe
The Power smiled,
The center of energy
Core of an atom;
Listened to men talking.
“Who is God?” they asked,
“Why are we here?”
Humorously the Fewer
Offered' man a fiaction
Of himself, of knowledge.
Man seized it; he cried,
“Here I have all of it,
Here is the answer,
Here, in my hand!”
A Trio of Triolets
Last month I wept that spring was not,
For then I was an April Fool!
I longed for aun, ah, sad my lot! || v-.
Last month I wept that spring was not,
But now in May the days are hot,
The blossoms droop, the sun is cruel.
Last month I wept that spring was not,
For then I was an April Fool.
The palisades which spurn the sea
I long for. You my heart does ache
For, too. I hold in memory
The palisades whicn spurn the sea
As I spurned you, nor did foresee
That fleeing you, I should forsake
The palisades which spurn the sea.
I long for you, my heart does ache.
He kissed me with solemnity
And started bravely on his way.
His eyes were sober, flashed no glee,
He kissed me with solemnity.
Just six years old, to school went he.
I stilled a sob which bade him stay;
He kissed me with solemnity
And started bravely on his way.
—Nancy Meyer.
On the Masters
By Jacqueline Winetrout
Many a famous and noble per
son had quaked at the thought of
eating a grapefruit in public.
Scientists, politicians, insurance
salesmen, people big and small,
important or unimportant, in fact,
everyone who has ever eaten a j
grapefruit has pondered over vari- j
ous ways of improving the art of■
eating this delicious fruit. I don’t
want to brag; but yes, you have
guessed it; I believe that I have
discovered a fool-proof method of i
safely transfering the delicate lit
tle sections of the grapefruit from j
their firm position in the skin to
our watering mouths.
The important factor in eating a'
grapefruit is to be supplied with
proper equipment. I suggest that
you carry with you at all times an.
oil skin cap, to protect your hair,
an apron of the same material, to
fully cover the area between the
neck and waist ,and a pair of oil
skin gloves to use in case you get
angry at the little grapefruit and
start tearing the section out with
your hands. I advise ail of you
ladies to dispense with mascara*,
powder, and lipstick while eating
a grapefruit. As you know, it is
always necessary to v/ash one's
face thoioughly after eating the
fruit. And what is worse than run
ny mascara? I advise both ladies
(Please turn to page thirty-one)
Medo-Land Ice Cream was award
ed first prize for 1846 by the Oregon
Dairy Manufacturers Association, at
Oregon State College.
When you eat Medo - Land ice
cream, you are eating the best ice
cream, in Oregon.
To top oil any meal, to make
a good meal the best, serve
Medo-Fand ice cream.
A\ h o 1 e s o m e. delicious! v
satisfying-, our ice cream is
made oi the finest ingredients
and is always fresh-.
l'ast-frozcn, it is made in
several popular flavors. Order
some today.
675 Charlton
.Phono 393