Friday, September 12,
SOUTHERN OREGON MINER
Page 6
mnke the fetching style at lower
left; un applique cactus is on the
waistband, and rlckruck trims.
The softly flared apron ut top is ap-
pliqued with huge water lilies on
skirt edge and bnnd, and another
lily forms a handy pocket.
INSTALLMENT SEVEN—The Story So Far
The depression has hit the Mafutr«
family though Mike Maguire, happy-go-
lucky editor and mayor of Covington,
la serene
His daughter Kathleen la
irritated, however, over several things.
Mrs Newsum would Uke her son. Jatrd
to marry Connie Mays, the banker's
•
a
“Lou Knight!" gasped Kathleen.
Alec nodded. "I ought to be horse
whipped." he confessed miserably.
"Myra and the gang bet me that
she would turn me down like no
body’s business."
"And did she?"
Alec hung his head. "No.”
"Oh. Alec! And now you’re phon
ing her again. For what?”
“To teU her I’m sorry but I can't
take her to the airdrome after all—
because I’ve broken my neck or
something. Gee, Kathleen. I’d nev
er hear the last of it if I stepped
out with that Uttle suggin."
"Sure she’s a suggin." cried Kath
leen passionately. "Her dad’s been
the town sot for years and she used
to play hooky from school because
she hadn't decent shoes to wear.
And they live up over a beer flat
down by the railroad shops and she's
never had anything but cuffs and
abuse. And she's thin and homely
and all eyes and scared to death of
people like any other animal that's
been mistreated.
But she's also
proud as the devil and sensitive and
pitiful. And she’s probably been
thrilled to death for hours because
you asked her out. But what’s that
to you? You're going to call her up
and break her heart and make
mincemeat of her pride.”
“Good Lord, you don’t think I
ought to go!
What would Laura
•ay?”
Kathleen’s nostrils dilated with
scorn. "She'll probably think she 1
•
CHAPTER IX
Alec Maguire needed another
drink. He needed it badly, Liquor
gav« him a quick pick-up. But un-
fortunately liquor had a mean trick
of dying on him too soon. And the
letdown was terrific.
“Isn’t the music gorgeous?” bur
bled Myra.
Alec regarded her sourly.
He
didn't want to, but quite suddenly he
saw every line about her loose
rouged mouth. Her hair was metal
lically yellow, but next to the roots
it was drab. Her under chin sagged
unless she held it well up. But to
morrow would be another day. re
flected Alec bitterly. With abso
lutely nothing to do.
While his
nerves crawled with boredom. At
least Myra provided action.
She had to be doing something
•very minute. That was why she
liked her playmates young. Matur-
er men occasionally had jobs to go
to. Myra herself had no serious oc
cupation except her own amuse
ment And she was perfectly will
ing to pay the piper for the privi
lege of calling the tune.
"I’ve got to have another shot be
fore I do a rhumba." muttered Alec
when the music ended.
He left Myra to rejoin their party
as best she could and made his
way a little blindly toward the exit
Marigold Gardens had no license to
sell intoxicating beverages. So ev
erybody brought his own. It was
quite like good old before-repeal
days. Myra always parked a quart
or two with her car. She thought
Alec might have asked her to go
along if he wanted a snort.
He
was a queer youngster. Brilliant
but moody, and his temper was as
erratic as a trick cigarette lighter.
Myra had never quite figured him
out Perhaps that was why he in
trigued her.
Alec had not asked Myra to share
her own liquor because he wanted to
be rid of her. He had to do some
thing which he dreaded. Myra would
think it was a scream if she knew.
She would tell the world so. Alec’s
face looked a little haunted. It was a
ridiculous jam for him to have got
into. It was all Myra’s fault any
way. If she hadn't dared him and
if he hadn’t been three sheets in the
wind, it could never have happened.
He might be pretty thoroughly no
good, but he wasn't at heart that
rotten. At least he hoped not
“Hell!” muttered Alec Maguire to
himself and jerked open the door of
the telephone booth.
He continued to frown at the blank
wall before him as he dialed a num
ber. Kathleen cleared her throat
At least she and Alec always fought
fair. He whirled, recognized her,
smothered an oath and hung up the
receiver before his connection could
be completed.
"If it isn't little sister," he
sneered. "Out slumming with Hot
Shot Mays and the Uke of that I
thought you had more sense. I had
to look twice when you came in. Just
couldn’t believe the old eyesight”
"That was alcohol, not shock. Bud
dy."
Alec went very red. “One in the
family’s enough,” he muttered.
"Why don't you cut it out then?"
"Gene Mays never did a girl’s rep
any good.”
"Maybe you think I like having
people refer to my brother as the
Boone divorcee’s latest gigolo.”
The moment she spat out the
word Kathleen was sorry. Alec
went so white she was frightened.
"All right” he said in a thick
ened voice, “you win. I’m putrid.
I’m not fit to open my trap no mat
ter what you do. I admit it And
that’s that Now will you beat it?
I’ve got to telephone and I didn’t
invite an audience.”
Kathleen's lips quivered. "I didn’t
mean it Alec. But. gee. Buddy, it
breaks my heart when you’re like
this.”
Alec looked away. His handsome
boyish face was haggard, his black
eyes a little desperate. "I’m not
drunk now if that’s what you mean,”
he said gruffly.
“I know. But—don't go back in
there, Alec. Cut that bunch and
surprise Mother by turning up at a
decent hour for once.”
“Yeah, and lie awake till day-
light, rolling and tossing because
I’m too gosh-awful blue to sleep,”
he said bitterly. "What time is it?"
"Nine-fifteen by my watch and
chain though I don't guarantee it,”
said Kathleen with a rueful grin at
the wrist watch which she had won
with a prize essay on the beauty
- - in
• a grossly ma-
of being altruistic
terial world.
Alec groaned. “Blow,
he said
sharply.
Kathleen regarded him with I nar-
rowed eyes, "You may as well tell
me what it’s all »bo«*, she said
firmly, "because I'm sticking till
w
you do.
Alec again colored violently. "You
won’t like it. But if you must have
jt, you must. We were all pretty
well liquored up this afternoon and
Myra wanted to do something differ-
ent. for a thrill. So she dared me to
call up somebody and make a date
for tonight"
“Who?"
"Lou Knight.”
daughter, though ha to engaged to Shir
ley. Kathle<*n'a sister. Tom. Kathleen a
brother, is hard hit by the slump tn
real estate, and his wife. Mary Etta,
secretary, talks of Reno.
A younger
brother. Alec, unable to get a job. is
taking up with a flashy blonde, much
"She’ll probably think she raised
her son to be an idiot."
raised her son to be an idiot, but
I believe she'd prefer that to a
cad.”
Alec drew a long breath. “I’ll
never live it down," he muttered.
"But here goes." He dialed his num
ber and this time he waited for
his connection.
“This is Alec Maguire," he said
doggedly into the receiver. "Will
you please send somebody upstairs
with a message to Lou Knight? Tell
her I've been unavoidably detained
and am going to be a little late, but
I’ll be there.”
He turned away from the tele
phone. "I hope you’re satisfled,” he
growled.
He did not return to the bailroom.
Kathleen watched him going sulkily
out the entrance, and didn't know
whether to laugh or to cry. He was
lucky enough to catch a ride with
Len Woods and Sylvia Mason who
had decided to move on elsewhere.
They set him down on Main Street
and, still scowling, Alec crossed the
railroad tracks and made for that
unlovely part of town against which
Mike was always crusading in the
Clarion's editorial page, where one
row of ugly shotgun houses, all pre
cisely alike, butted against another
and the streets were unpaved and
dusty, the yards small and clut
tered and bare.
Myra would be furious. Alec knew
that. But the stimulation of the al
cohol which he had consumed earli
er in the night had yielded to black
depression, and in his present hu
mor he d'id not much care what My
ra elected to do about his cavalier
desertion.
Nevertheless he was
aware that he would feel differently
the next day when the hours
stretched interminably before him
and he had nothing to do but think.
The sort of thoughts that had been
driving him crazy since he took his
degree at midyear and found him
self adrift in a world that yawned
when he begged for his chance. Just
■ chance, that was all he asked. A
chance to do things. Big construc
tive things such as he had dreamed
of.
"God!” said Alec Maguire to him
self.
PRIVATE Pt «KEY ON
■MANGOI EKS'
Ritchie Graham.
older than he
stranger, helps Kathleen Ils a flat and
kisses her lie. too. is a newspaper man
—and without a job So she goes to a
dance with Gene Maya though she does
not Uke him
Kathleen thinks she dislikes Ritchie,
e
Near the railroad shops there was
a business street of aorta. It con-
aisled mainly of cheap eating places,
squalid second-hand furniture stores,
pawnshops, small grimy groceries
and beer joints. Upstairs were Hats.
Dingy dilapidated places with shaky
floors and flimsy walls and no mod
ern conveniences. Fire traps Mike
was always calling them and at
tempting to arouse an inert public
to demand their destruction. Mike's
son. tramping up the steep rickety
staircase which mounted from out
side. cursed under his breath. How
had he ever landed himself in such
a mess? Even drunk he should have
had more sense, to say nothing of
decency.
Dear Ma—
Well 1 am just back from another
tnanoover with my outfit and I don't
whether we
.
Al'NT MARTI) A
Rus IM W
Kansas City, Mo.
Knclose IS csnia tor each paIlern
deslred. Pattern No...................
Name .
Address
ITS FUN TO
GET VITAMIN C
CHAPTER X
Covington was small enough for
everybody to know practically ev
eryone else by sight—and gossip.
Alec had vaguely known old Pete
Knight's little girl all her life al
though he didn’t remember ever
having spoken to her before today.
They had gone to the same public
school because until recently the
town had only the one. But they
had never been in the same class
or even in the same room. Alec
thought Lou was about seventeen,
three years younger than himself.
Pete Knight was Covington's bad
example. He came originally from
good stock, or so it was generally
believed.
At least when he first
blew into town some fourteen years
before, he gave evidence of having
been at one time a gentleman. Even
yet traces of a former gentility
showed through his maudlin speech.
But somewhere the man had lost
hold of himself. Mike had a theory
that Pete Knight had taken a knock
out blow in some fairer existence
which left him punch-drunk, so that
he couldn't pick himself up again.
But if so, be never referred to IL
And he resented any attempt at
prying into his past—if he had one.
Certainly he had no present or fu
ture. He must have been about
thirty when he dropped off a freight
train in Covington and he had been
steadily drinking himself to death
ever since. Several months after his
arrival Lou appeared.
She was
barely toddling. A queer forlorn lit
tle tyke even then, who had made
the trip in the care of successive
railroad conductors.
He worked, when he wasn't on a
spree, at anything he could find to do
from washing dishes in a greasy
spoon restaurant to hauling garbage
for the city. But most of his earn
ings went for whiskey with which
further to befuddle his already fog
gy brain. And for several years
he had been a physical as well as a
moral wreck. But when he was in
his cups he presented a tragically
ludicrous figure. The sort small boys
loved to follow and torment with
rocks or snowballs just to hear him
roar like a baited and bewildered
trapped bear.
"Come," said a small husky voice
when Alec rapped at one of the
battered doors which lined the long
dingy upstairs corridor.
The girl, standing a little beyond
the scarred kitchen table, reminded
hi* uncomfortably of a small hunt
ed animal. The flat had only two
rooms and was depressingly scant
of furniture. But at least an effort
had been made to retrieve the ugli
ness of dark cracked walls and nar
row broken-paned windows. A strag- .
gling geranium grew in a tin coffee
can and the rusty cook stove had
been polished.
“Hello," said Lou Knight.
She was very thin and her blue
eyes were enormous in her small
wan face. She had thick pale brown
hair, a shy nervous mouth and little
roughened hands that kept twisting
at her side. Her glance begged Alec
not to laugh. At the room, or at
her, or at ner sleazy blue silk dress
which pulled in places, revealing
raw seams, and which bagged in
others. But Alec had never felt less
like laughing. She was such a pa
thetic little scrap. So dreadfully shy
So afraid of sneers and blows be
cause life had handed her little else.
“Ready?" he demanded awkward
ly. She nodded. And he went on,
trying desperately to sound natural.
“Sorry I was late, But if we hur-
ry, I think we can just make the
last show."
She said nothing, But he saw the
cords working in her thin little neck.
She was scared to death, Alec's
throat hurt at the look in her eyes.
She stumbled on the stair from sheer
nervousness and he put out his hand
to steady her. But she caught her
breath sharply and flinched away.
Alec flushed. Had she thought he
was going to hit her? He hated
himself for being so painfully aware
of her shabby little slippers which
had scuffed, run-down spike heels.
He supposed he was a snob, but the
hardest thing he had ever done in
his life was to walk through the
crowd of hangers-on outside the Cov
ington Airdrome and purchase a
couple of tickets tor himself and Lou
Knight. Even after he was safely
inside where there were no lights
his handsome young face burned.
(TO DE CONTINUED)
of there
dispute bo
tween
th e utn-
I’ires. One ruled
was ex-
and
/
—T/j terminated
|lu, other came
up with a decision that we was not
A PHON problem! I It is solved
•ven touched. It Is al! on account ** here with two exciting new
of the flag system witch I gess you motifs in the Accordion Flare tind
never heard of so 1 will explane it to the Water Lily. Ingenious gores
you ma.
• • •
Of coarse we do not shoot each
other in these here war games but
at the same time nobody can tell
how the tight came out if It Is all
forgot as just a cross country out
ing. So a lot of flags is used to de
note where we are and what hap
pened. All we jeeps do is obey or
ders and we don’t even know what
the main idea is. But the observ-
ers and umpires who have the whole
thing worked out on maps get a idea
what wood of happened if it had
been a actual battle. Here is where
the flags come in.
see
Complete patterns for the two aprons
come as ZU.KH. IS cents, They are (rand
for gifts or party prises, Henct y>ur or-
der to:
I
I
An umpire waving a blue flag in-
dercates that you are smack in the
middle of nn area witch is under ar
tillery bombbardment and that it Is
a very unhealthy spot to stay in. If
he has a yellow flag it is serposed
to show that you are under machine
gun Are and that if you go any fur
ther into it you wood be shot full
of holes in a real war. Another
colored flag means that we are ad
vancing thru a heavy smoke screen
and so on. I heard that in this last
battle somebody got all mixed up
on the flags and it still is a question
witch got mixed up most the officers
or the referees. Anyhow one offi
cial said the flags meant my division
had walked right through a area
witch the enemy was giving the
works and that we was mostly
all dead or wounded. He said that
in a real fight all of ua wood have
been legible to be buried as the Un
known Soldier. Another referee said
nothing of the kind. He said he was
a better judge of flags than the other
fellow and that from what he saw
we had been safe all the time except
from more bunions.
Of coarse tor all I know one of
'em is color blind but I do not care
as long as the generals do not order
the game played over again.
• • •
Believe me I am glad the summer
is almost over as the weather seems
twice as hot in a
army as it does
anywhere
else
and it seems to
me I have spent
last
four
the
weeks in a dust
cloud,
I never
knew there was
so much dust in America. It wood
almost be a great break for me if I
got lent to Iceland, except that I do
not think I would like the long days
up there.
e
e
e
Sergeant Mooney saya the sun
does not set at all in the summer in
Iceland and that it is day time 24
hours. A 12-hour day ia plenty for
me, especially in the army. In •
place where the sun does not go
down I wood be afraid the bugler
wood get all mixed up and start
blowing me out of bed at midnight
•
unkist
as
Well anyhow I am getting ao used
to tough brakes that nothing bothers
me much no more, except when I
Greater Flame
do not get regular letters from you
The great man who thinks great
and Lillian and Doris and all the ly of himself is not diminishing
girls witch reminds me do you know that greatness in heaping fuel on
where Lucretia Willeets has moved? his fire.—Disraeli.
All my letters to her come back.
Love, Oscar.
• • •
V.
Two simple strokes
Loosen the yokes
Fashioned by tyranny,
Marked in the night
Yield, in the light.
Omens for all to see.
Don’t say Pork and Beans
On wall and on door
More and yet more
Symbols of victory.
Pointed and narrow.
Sharp as an arrow.
This is the letter V.
—Richard Armour.
a
•
Your Value
Your worth consists in what you
are not in what you have; what
you are will show in what you do.
—Thomas Davidson.
Feast-for-the-Least
a
Elmer Twitchell says a lot of peo
ple won’t really get aroused to ths
realities of the war crisis until they
see the prospect of a return of prohi
bition and homemade gin.
• • •
A PAIR OF CURS
I’d like to see him go to prison.
Also pay a fine.
We both raise dogs and he let his'n
Whip that pup of mihe.
—Merrill Chilcote.
a
a
a
What was once oil for the lamps
of China has become oil for the
scamps of Japan.
• • •
Veils are coming back, we’re told.
Well, maybe It’s an easier way to
glamour than just using less make
up.
JO
/ | <HE PUBLIC nature of advertising bene-
X fit» everyone it touches. It benefits the
public by describing exactly the products that are offered. It
benefits employees, because the advertiser must be more fair
and just than the employer who has no obligation to the public.
These benefits of advertising are quite apart from the obvious
benefits which advertising confers—the lower prices, the higher
quality, the better service that go with advertised goods and firms.