^iur»da^Apri£4H940^
The Gold Hill News. Gold Hill. Orearon
IIRIISIM E Y E S
bg • . •
Kathleen Norris
O M T O tM N N O M S — WNU W V K I
THE STORY THUS FAR
Shall. Carscaddan. blue-eyed, reddlah-halred and 11. loaaa her lob In New York
by offering u»r(ul but unwelcome «ufgaatlona to her boas. Typically feminine, she
chooses that tim e to show her new" purse— which aha bought at a second-hand
store, to her cousin. Cecilia Moore. The purse revives memories of a boy she had met
the previous summer—a box «hose lirst name, all she remembered, was Peter At
home that evening, watting for her. are her mother: Joe. her brother, and Angela,
her crippled slater. Joe. too. has lost his lob. During the not-so-happy evening Angela
finds fifty dollars In a secret pocket In Sheila's purse. They are both happy at the
discovery, only to be disheartened when Mrs. Carscadden tells Shelia the money must
be returned to the person whose Initials and street number are on the purse. Sheila
Is going to return the money dressed In an ancient outfit Then, she feels, the owner
w ill reward her liberally She looks upon the escapade as a lark. She feels different
when she enters the magnificent home, tor the occupants prove to be the Me Cann
fam ily, old friends, now wealthy, of Sheila's father And there she sees Peter, her
acquaintance of the previous summer!
CHAPTER III—Continued
“Here,” said Mrs. Me Cann, In
her gentle voice and with her gen­
tle smile, "these'U go well with
the bag. They’re Monica’s—she’s
up at Kenwood, and she’ll be glad
for an excuse to get new ones.”
Her hands lingered in motherly
fashion about Sheila, as she helped
to put them on. She smiled at the
result, and Mamie brought her
hands together with one convulsive
clap of triumph.
Sheila, her sense of shame deep­
ening every second, hung her head
as she stood before them. It was
all like a nightmare. Their warmth,
their kindness; their goodness were
all completely disarming.
“ You’ve the purse, dear, and the
money in it. And tell Mamma that
Judge Me Cann was one of your
papa’s old friends, and that I’ll be
over tomorrow to have a little talk
with her. And you’ve your nickel
for the subway—T”
“You’re awfully kind to me, Mrs.
Me Cann,” Sheila could only mum­
ble. She had completely abandoned
the brogue, but neither of the other
women was apt to notice the omis-
“Kind, my dear! When the Lord
has been so good to m e,” Ellen Me
Cann said humbly. She went with
Sheila across the wide hallway
again; it was darkened now, but
there was still a dim indication of
lighted lamps beyond the library
archway, and in some smaller room
there were subdued laughter and
the sound of voices. Mrs. Me Cann
herself opened the big front door for
her guest.
CHAPTER IV
Just as Sheila was about to leave
the dark young man who had en­
tered this same doorway just after
Sheila had, and who had been ad­
dressed by Mamie as “Mr. Frank,”
came down the big, palm-decorated
sweep of the central stairs, and
joined Mrs. Me Cann at the door.
"Mother,” he said. He stopped
in surprise, and over his rather dark
young face a smile broadened at
the sight of Sheila. "Well, you look
better!” he observed. “ Mother,”
he resumed, “I’m going out to
Bernadette’s for about an hour. I
could run Miss—this young lady
home.”
“Well, so you could,” his mother
agreed. “It’s right on your way.
My son’s young lady lives in Spuyten
Duyvil,” she said to Sheila, some­
what impressively.
“Bernadette said she’d telephone
you in the morning, Mother,” Frank
Me Cann said. Suddenly he laughed,
and his mother looked at him in
surpi is«.
“What is it, Frank?”
“Nothing!” he said. “I’ll—I’m go­
ing to see Bernadette.”
“Give her my love!” Mrs. Me
Cann looked at Sheila. “My son
will drive you home,” she said.
“That’s better than the subway.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have him !” Sheila
protested, shrinking.
“Why not?” Frank asked, pulling
on his gloves. But it was not a
question; he did not even glance at
her.
“Well, if you don’t look stunning
in Monica’s old coat! Gertrude said,
suddenly joining them. “ You look
lovely. Aunt Ellie,” she added, “I’m
going to bed. I’m sunk. If I don’t
want to be taken for Grandma
Keane at my own wedding, I’ve got
to get some sleep.”
“Where you going, Frank?” This
was Peter’s voice. Sheila’s heart
rose on a great plunge, but she could
not look up.
“Kennedys’. They’re having a
dinner for Dette’s aunt from Syra­
cuse. I said I’d come out, late.”
“Where are you going, Peter?”
the mother asked.
“I am going out a while.”
His confused, husky tone told Shei­
la where he had intended to go. He
had intended to accompany her,
have a few words alone with her.
But Frank’s offer to drive her home
had balked him.
She dared not look at him; she
was choking. Mrs. Me Cann was
saying good night to her; she and
Frank were descending the big
brownstone steps.
“ Wait for me here on the curb,
my car’s parked right across the
street,” Frank said. Sheila stood
still, trembling. And then, as she
had half expected, Peter was beside
her for half a second, and there
was a slip of paper in her hand.
“I’ve got to see you!” Peter mum­
bled. He was gone, and Frank was
bringing a small closed car up to
her. In a daze Sheila got in.
"The young lady I’m going to mar­
ry lives in Spuyten Duyvil,” Frank
explained. “I’m on my way there.”
Sheila sat silent beside him, and
could make no answer.
"We've been engaged five years,”
Frank went on.
"That's a long tim e.”
"It’s a good test of mutual affec­
tion,” the man said in satisfaction.
This handsome oldest son of Judge
Me Cann was well pleased with
himself, Sheila decided.
“Peter and Gertrude,” he re­
sumed, “were a little quicker about
it. They've grown up like brother
and sister, of course; w e’re all de­
voted to Gertrude. But Miss Ken­
nedy and I wanted to be sure.
"We haven’t so very long to go.
now. June. Then I think w e’ll run
over to Europe and stay until Sep­
tember.”
“It sounds wonderful,” Sheila ob­
served respectfully.
“Well, it’s time I settled down,”
Frank said. “I’m twenty-seven." He
laughed, with relish.
“Are you four years older than
Peter?”
It had slipped out. Sheila's very
soul shriveled with terror. There
was a sudden change in Frank’s
voice; It became less sure, less pa­
tronizing, less satisfied. He spoke
surprisedly:
“ You know Pete?”
“I—well, I met him. This sum­
mer, at Tiller’s Beach. But I didn’t
know until tonight who he was.”
“You didn’t know who he was?”
“We only knew each other one
day. I didn’t remember his name.
And maybe he didn’t remember
m ine.”
“Ah-h-h?” Frank said, as one
awakening.
“I remember,” he
mused aloud, “I remember his tell­
ing me—when he got back from that
visit—aha!”
He fell silent; Sheila could not
speak.
“ You knew that Peter was getting
married on Tuesday?”
“Oh, yes.”
Another silence.
“Peter told me that he had met
you—I suppose it was you,” Frank
observed. He stopped the car at
the forlorn dark Bronx doorway.
“Well, good night,” he said, a little
at a loss.
Sheila said, “I thank you,” and
“good night,” and was out of the
car, and heard it roar and hum
away as she mounted her own steps.
Her thoughts stopped her feet sud­
denly; she stood still in the odorous
thick atmosphere of the dim lower
hall. About and above her was
crying; the banging of pots, the
sound of radios, phonographs, quar­
rels, voices echoed from behind
closed doors.
Her heart smoldered; she stood
still. One look at Peter Me Cann,
and the agony of that enchanted
summer day and night—they had
had but the one—was upon her
afresh. He had lied to her, kissed
her, and she had believed him, wait­
ed for him, while he had been court­
ing and winning a rich man’s daugh­
ter, a beautiful girl in a slim suit
and furs, who could lose fifty dol­
lars without ever knowing it.
And now beside all that, Sheila
would be made contemptible in the
eyes of these friends who had loved
her father, who wanted to be kind
to Mamma. They would discover
that she had been play-acting, that
she had been a hypocrite.
Even before this oldest son she
must appear as an impostor. She
was no such artless little angel as
she had seemed in the Me Cann
house. Mamma would bawl her out
tomorrow; the President himself
couldn’t make Mamma lie. And
then all of them, Mrs. Me Cann and
Gertrude, and Frank, would know
that their pathetic little beggar had
been no beggar at all, just a bluffer.
Mamie would know, and Peter would
hear them discussing it—
She suddenly remembered the pa­
per in her hand, unfolded it, and
read it by the hall light.
“Be at the Maritime Law Library,
top floor—four-thirty tomorrow,” Pe­
ter had written. “I’ve got to see
you.”
“I see myself going!” Sheila mut­
tered.
Fortunately, even after entering
the kitchen, she had a few minutes
in which to recover herself. Joe
and Cecilia Moore were there, mur­
muring at the table. No one else
was in sight.
Presently Angela and Mamma re­
turned, and then the new coat and
hat had to be handled and admired,
and the story told and retold.
“The loveliest people you ever
saw, Mamma—they’re all so happy
and so kind, and laughing together!”
"Paul Me Cann, I rimimber the
name well,” Sheila’s mother mused.
“He was a square-built feller, wit’
a head of black hair on um.”
“That’s the one, Ma.”
“They were fine people,” Mrs.
Carscadden said.
“ A*d the girl their son's going to
marry—the ward that their son is
going to marry, Sheila,” Angela
asked wistfully, “ is she nice?"
"Gertrude Keane.”
"Is that her name?"
“ It was her purse I found, you
know.”
"Oh, sure. And is she stunning,
Sheila, like we said?”
“Oh, I'll bet I saw his picture in
the paper with her last Sunday!”
Cecilia said with animation. Shabby
and tired and poor and young, talk­
ing sadly of their prospects with
her Joe, she could nevertheless
brighten into interest at the thought
of this more fortunate girl. She and
Joe had been engaged for three
years; she knew that they easily
might have to wait three more.
"Mamma,” Sheila demanded, her
arms stretched across the table, the
dangling light bright in her eyes,
and upon the shining, flattened
fringe of hair across her forehead,
"if Mrs. Me Cann comes tomorrow,
will you talk poor?”
"I will not!” Mrs. Carscadden an­
swered. “If you choose to draw
down the anger of God by pretendin'
to be in throuble whin you’re not,
thin it’d be a fine job draggin’ your
mother into it!”
“ Mamma, if you’ll just stick to
the truth but sort of make a poor
mouth of it,” begged Sheila after an
interval of unhappy thought. "I had
us all but starving in the streets!”
“Well, they’ll And out we’re not
thin. They’ll not put their little
toobs down my children's throats.
Sheila had been with Robby Blaka—
not that either Sheila or P eter re­
membered Robby afterward, at all.
For
Peter had taken immediate posses­
sion of her, they had watched the
yacht races together, they had been
together—alone in the mob—at the
barbecue and clam-bake supper,
they had danced at the C a sin o -
strolled out into the moonshine to
talk, danced again.
The others had been singing; Shei­
ETERSBURGH, FLA The
la and Peter had sung, too, and It
R ig Bird engraved upon the
had seemed to them that their very shirts Id the St. Louis Cardinals has
souls had risen t'o Heaven on the tin iinLinlp a huwk, seeking its prey.
strains of “There's a Long, Long
A.yjsir ago these Cardinals were
Trail," and “The End of a Perfect not sûre whether they might finish
Day."
se c o n d or fifth .
Afterward there had been silence; They caught your
peace about the dying fire, and eye in this sun-
moonshine gaining over firelight, flo o d ed c it y th at
and the soft rustle and rush of the now lays claim to
sea. Sheila had been carrying her the W orld S e r ie s
pocketbook, through this marvelous training spot. But
week of beach holiday, and she had too many of them
opened it to And a pencil and a piece had just begun to
of paper, and had scribbled her wield a razor along
name and address, there in the fire­ downy cheeks. They
light, for Peter to carry away.
w e r e Red B ird s
“I’ve got to get back," he had then — not hawks.
said. "I'm driving three fellers to T hey n e e d e d the Grantland Klee
Good Ground.”
hammering experi­
- “I’m going up to town in the ence of u hard campaign.
morning," she had said.
It was in the shade of a sheltering
“We’re going Monday. Well, I’ll oak, ash or palm tree that Branch
see you in town,” he had said.
Rickey advised me to pick the Reds
And that had been the end. No for 1939 and the Cardinals for 1940.
word from him, no sign from him,
“ We have quite a number of
no knowledge of him until tonight. young fellows," he said, “ who need
And he was to marry Gertrude just one more season. The Reds
Keane on Tuesday.
will get the Jump on this young team
It was long after midnight when but we won’t be far away In the
Sheila fell asleep. And after all stretch. It will he different next
it was neither Gertrude nor Peter year."
nor Frank, nor even the intractable
This happens to be the “next
"Ma,” on whom her lust thought lin­ year” mentioned by Mr. Rickey. If
gered. It was Judge Paul Me Cann, he is as sound a prophet in 1940 as
blue-eyed, honest, generous, good— he was in 1939, the Cardinals are
Everyone will admire your skill
the only conception Sheila had ever already in.
when you use a cloth crocheted
had of kindly human fatherhood. He
in this lovely pineapple design.
would discover that he had been de­ Sound Pitching Stuff
The handy squares make grund
ceived in her, that she was a liar.
They have that year’s experience pick-up work, tool Puttern 2441
Her cheeks burned with fear and stuck under their belts and they contains directions for squure; il­
shame, and her dreams, when final­ have the same speed and the same lustrations of it and stitches; pho­
ly she slept, were only a hundred spirit. More than that, in addition tograph of square; materials re­
troubled versions of exposure.
to such veterans as Curt Davis, Lon quired; Send order to;
“ Paul,” said Mrs. Me Cann to Warneke and Big Bob Weiland, they
her husband the following evening, also carry along (he younger pitch­
Srwlns Clrela N ra d lrrta d Dap».
when they were in their own mag­ ing arms of Cooper, McGee, Lanier,
« Î K llh lli Ave.
Naw Vork
nificent room just before dinner, Bowman, Sunkel and Barrett—the
Enclose IS canta tn coins (or Pat-
“the goodness of the poor breaks soundest all-around pitching staff in
tern No..................
your heart.”
the National league and one of the
"Ye got to see the Carscaddens to­ best in baseball.
Name ............................................
day?” he asked eagerly.
It has both quantity and quality.
Address ..........................................
"I made it a matter of duty, Pa­ From the nine pitchers mentioned
pa,” Mrs. Me Cann said.
Ray Blades should be able to get at
“Well, ye found thim?”
least five moving briskly along,
“In a little place—Mrs. Me Cann which is well above the average.
sighed, and repeated her former
There are those around who will
HOUSEHOLD
phrase.
“ It would break your advise you not to climb too far
heart.”
towards the end ol
QUESTIONS
“It would, eh?” he asked uneasi­
the limb in this
ly, reluctantly, as he sat up on the
C a rd in a l m a tte r .
edge of the bed.
They mention the
Oil casement window hinges oc­
“Three rooms, Papa. And you
fa c t th a t D u v is, casionally. This will prevent their
could put all three into this one.”
4 ap*
™
Warneke and Wei- rusting.
• • •
"Ah-h-h!” he muttered, as if in «À F «•
land are no longer
pain. He shut his lips, brought his
El kids—that most of
Baked custards and vanillu jun­
feet to the floor, and began to walk
*he younger pitch- ket are tasty with u sprinkling of
up and down the room.
ers have yet to grated nutmeg.
“If you could see the dignity of
prove their place—
the mother, Paul. No whining, no
and th a t P e p p e r
»FVÍLOPFI»
hard-luck story. Just one long tale
Martin can't retain
AND t HKTN
of how good God has been to them,
Curt Davis
the iron in his sys­
OF PRINTS
and of what a wonderful son she
tem and the flame
FROM ANY « OR g x-k — ,
has, and that Sheila—the girl who in his soul forever.
EXPOSURE ROLL. Fast • F * ë î
"iervlea. Reprints 2e raeh
came here is Sheila—ought to be an
actress, the way she carries on. Temperamental Medwirk
Mount Hood Film Co.
She made a joke of it—the child’s
They also bring out the fact that
P o rtis s a , O r a
honesty, and her returning the mon­ Joe Medwick hasn't been any too
A U W o rk P u n y Q n a r.n ta a d
ey !”
happy under the St. piuis setup
“I knew the minute I saw the for some time. And ftucky Med­
Nina—I know the truth about you
child it’d be something like that,” wick happens to be one of the best and my husband. You’11 find out
he said. "God be good to us a ll!”
ball players in either league. He what I’m going to do on Page 19 of
“Paul, I was thinking—I was won­ may be high-strung and tempera­ the May issue of True Story Maga­
dering, since this girl has lost her mental, but he can hit, field, run zine—now on sale.—Adv.
job, whether she’d come to us for and throw—the four main essen­
Cause Makes Martyr
next week? We're going to be sim ­ tials.
It is the cause, not the death,
ply rushed out of our senses. She
Ray Blades figures there are six
which makes the martyr.—Napo­
could keep an eye on Veronica— teams that can win the National
leon.
she’d be the greatest help to Katie. league pennant.
Then I could get some idea of what
I can't agree with him. The race
she can do, and what they need— should be between the Cardinals and
what is it, Gertrude?”
Reds, with the Dodgers and Cubs
The last phrase was an abrupt in­ making the main challenge.
terruption. Gertrude, clad in a
Frank Frisch will need at least a
dressing-gown, and with a tragic year to get the Pirates untangled
Here’s amazing w ay to
face and loosened hair, had entered and headed forward.
Relieve 'Regular' Pains
the room without announcement.
I can't figure Giants, Braves or
Mrs. I. C. Iswsen wrttsc ' 7 wat undernour­
“Aunt Ellie, do you know where Phillies with anything but a miracle
ished, had cramps, headaches and bath-
Peter is?”
ache. associated with m y monthly per unis.
chance.
/ took I h . I ’itrcr's Paeonir Fran notion
“ Do I—Peter? Where would he
Most of the old Gas House Gang
for a while, gained strenpth, an d was
be?”
greatly r citertd o f these pains."
have left the scene. They are scat­
T7OR over 70 years, coantless thousands of
“Well, he’s not home; he's not tered far and wide.
A women, who suffered functional monthly
here!”
Only a few years ago at Braden­
peins, here taken Dr. Pierce's Favorite Pre­
scription over a period of tim e— and have been
“He’s on his way home then, dar­ ton there were the two Deans, Jim ­
over)oved to And that thia famous remedy has
ling.”
my Wilson, Rip Collins, Leo Du-
helped them ward off such monthly discomforts.
Most amazing, thia scientific remedy, for­
“Aunt Ellie, he’s not! He was to rocher. Bill Hallahan and several
mulated by a practicing physician, is guaran­
go to the tailor, and meet Frank others. Now Pepper Martin and
teed to contain no harmful drugs—no narcot­
ics. In a scientific way, it improves nutritional
and pick out the ushers’ pins and Joe Medwick are about the only
assimilation; helps build you up and so In­
everything, and then he was going ones left.
creases your resistance and fortifies you
against
functional pain. Lessens oervouaneaa
to meet me at the Paulists’—and he
Baseball has seen better teams,
daring this trying period.
hasn't done any of it! He said he but none with so much color. There
Don’t suffer one unnecesaanr moment from
such monthly discomfort. Get Dr. Pierce’s Fa­
had to go to the library at half past | was the time when Jimmy Wilson,
vorite Prescription from your druggist Dis­
four and he would meet us at five. the crack Cardinal catcher, began
cover how wonderfully it acts to relieve you of
“Regular”
pains.
We telephoned the tailor, even, and ! missing his silk shirts from the lock­
Frank is just about fit to be tied; i er. Dizzy began wearing them.
he says he’s afraid Peter’s been [ Dizzy was then a rookie. When
Wealth in Health
hurt!”
Jimmy put the blast on Diz for pil­
Better a healthy peasant than a
“Oh, for heaven’s sake—” Judge fering his favorite shirt, Diz only sickly king.
Me Cann said, annoyed and impa­ grinned.
tient. “Don’t lose your w its!”
“Listen, Jim m y,” he said.
“I
“Well, Uncle Paul, all I know is came down here with only one shirt.
4 FOLD WAY TO RELIEVE
that tonight is the night of the din­ I knew you wouldn’t want the great­
ner dance at the Cahills’—our last est pitcher baseball ever knew to
before we are married, and it’s to go around with the same shirt for a
start sharp at seven, because we’re month. Now, would you?”
DUE TO FATIGUE AND EXPOSURE
all going up to the Country Club,
“ I guess you're right, Diz,” Wil­
A R-C O helps nature bring quick relief
and look—it’s twenty after six now! son said. So Dean kept the shirt.
powerful ways:
Ah, don't laugh at me—do some­
But there is still enough color in
1 S TIM U LA TE S surface circulation.
thing, won’t you? Won’t you do this present Cardinal outfit. It’s a
3 R E D U C E S local congestion.
3 R E L IE V E S muscular soreness.
IS.
something?”
young outfit, in the main, an outfit
4 S O O TH ES superficial nerve e 1 )
“If ever I’m given another life on that is keen to go somewhere.
endings — and relieves local
this earth,” Judge Me Cann said
pain and discomforts. Just rub
on En-ar-co and enjoy glorious
piously, reaching for his coat, "I A Whiff of the Series
relief. Pleasant to apply. A t
"We got a sniff of that World
hope I’ll have fewer throubles!”
all druggists, or send 10c for
trial
to National
- — also —------
— Remed
-,-mady
Series cash last fall,” one of them
Sheila was nervous in the office told me. “ We didn’t quite make it,
the next morning; always pale, to­ but it was a fragrant smell.
"But it will be different this year.
day she was unwontedly pale. The
other girls looked at her respect­ We think we can win. But whether
S H O P P IN G <T1>«
pi«c.
to alarf your (hop-
fully; they knew that she had been we win or not no team is going to
p in g tou r la la
fired, and although to their care-free get any 12 or 14-game jump on us
f Zl y/
your favorit. .aiy-
ranks this meant little, yet it was by June. Nor any other time. We
chair, with an open
impressive to have the invincible leurned a lot last summer, enough
n.wfpap.r.
Sheila Carscadden subdued and to make us a much better ball club.
M at. a habit of reading the adv.rtia.-
complaining of headache and of a The Reds will have to be better
m.nta In thia pap.r .vary w .ak, They
than
they
were
a
year
ago
to
head
can aava you tlm., an.rqy and monay.
bad night.
us off.”
(TO BE CONTINUED)
Crocheted Squares
rriiat Tablecloth
FILMS
It was long after midnight when
Sheila fell asleep.
or tell me how many pairs of shoes
I’d buy thim in a mont’,” with some
dim yet still smouldering memory
of settlement workers’ long-ago
visit.
"Mamma," Sheila began, now
genuinely appalled, “ Mrs. Me Cann
isn't a charity worker! She’s com­
ing as an old friend—how could I
stop her! If you’ll only be decent to
her. Mamma, if you’ll only be just
polite—”
“Polite to one and all I’ll ever
be—” her mother began, in an un­
yielding tone, “ but beholden to one
I niver seen—”
“Oh, Mamma, for heaven’s sake!
Beholden!”
Sheila was tired, emotionally sha­
ken, close to tears. Joe spoke sud­
denly.
“ You made her think we were
something we aren’t, Sheila, and
even if it was only a joke, it seems
to me that it isn’t fair to drag Ma
into it. If Mrs. Me Cann really
does come tomorrow, which she
probably won’t, why. Mamma will
have to explain to her that it was
just some of your nonsense!”
“ I get a chance to meet people
like that, and then you queer it!”
Sheila muttered bitterly.
“Maybe she’ll just think it was
funny, Sheila!” Angela said.
“Who but you would ever think of
such a thing!” Cecilia, who enor­
mously admired the spirit of the
younger girl, said, shaking her head.
“Oh, that one!” Mrs. Carscadden
observed, with a glance for Sheila;
a glance in which motherly pride,
mollified resentment, and a desire
to show herself friendly again were
all blended. "You couldn't stop that
one wit’ a thruck!” she claimed.
It was a boast. Sheila felt the
friendlier atmosphere, and but for
that scalding memory of Peter,
might have been reasonably confi­
dent and content as she went to bed.
As it was, a jealous ¿onfusion of
thoughts and fears raged in her
heart. She hated Gertrude, because
she was lovely and rich and be­
loved and happy, and she hated Pe­
ter, because she, Sheila, loved him.
She got into bed, seeming to the
interested and talkative Angela to
be in a strangely unresponsive
mood.
Sheila lay awake long after her
mother hbd crept noiselessly into
bed beside her.
Peter had wanted to see her. Well,
what else could he do? He could
hardly pretend that that last half-
hour of theirs, that tremendous end­
ing to their great day, had not oc­
curred at all.
They had met at a hotel lunch;
WOMEN
SORE MUSCLES
B
Ik