-
r
Chili with
flavor a fella
can taste
Made tftth rich rod
Armour meat... the
meat d good eating
Famous Armour meat, lean
and luscious and lots of it!
Plump red beans. Tangy
smooth real western sauce.
A chili for chili lovers.
The
it one
evetn wit buffering for
TEfisE riEnvous
Nrrvous tension liraihichi's nerd tfj
special relief Anacin,'"' jtives. Here's
why Anneiii is better than aspirin,
even with biiflerinu addeil. Anaein is
like a doctor's prescription. That is,
Anacin contains not iust one but a
combination of medically proven ingre
dients. Anacin acts to (1 ) relievt pain.
(2) calm nerves leave you relaxed.
(3) finhl depression... and Anacin
Tablets do not upset the stomach.
3 out of 4 doctors recommend
the ingredients of ANACIN
YOU CAN HELP END
HIGHWAY
TRAGEDIES
SUPPORT YOUR LOCAL
SAFETY ORGANIZATIONS
Where the public supports
a safety program,
deaths go DOWN I
' (IIP
h
f 4
n
1. 1
p.
P
i
h
r
i. ,
f
Armour Star label
of the world' graat
guarantee of quality!
v L- Tr" J g : I
N A i
you know it's good 1 5VJHF
Th Armour Star label I f J
it one of the world' graat T
G&J$'fiQS of this
nQwsBippr for news
and price
announcements by
the local merchants
who feature
products
advertised in
tin
JVM
tescgJ fteir tigbtcreao
Tb&y woofcd aaap
so easily!
3
i
i A ' JEL? V I F,
; S;7?fe 5 V,
A. Motfttrtt
Art by tfincnt SuiSS
t
smelled of chQlJJ gnel wat) -wcasl
and tejrj&s. ThQ net? gbtgil
staQdin very still hDfarU &fl claf9.
That vq3 the fiiP tftift yarn, liWti
about hor thgb 6k0 StOflt S l2Pc3
and proud. The second t&hvj ft tfirdJ
she was such a little girl. Her raincona
was faded and sizes too big for her.
On her first day in a new fourth
grade she must have be?n both scared
and excited, but the only evidence was
the way her bright brown eyes moved
about, examining everything.
14
Family Weekly. February 2, 195S
Ply -i
II It I I;
&e tachr $oat h$r dteg t$lging
to thft principal. Tliair voices 'Qr$ low,
Sub ctcggjcBalli' e ghrfleO coy Id be
htWrd: "... not hfife tfiOS're
sSiSi tO . . . tP fest . . . n$e
fflmily, in ejt9 of . . ."
booking eU t&aso aovs o ixcatjy
Qirl rcyisi rwrifcniy sa dat dOcofi irTDk
lio tiDwxa. Ste to1 ftet taxa 53 xQt
curlj nor skLai) iifea bid) )3Qj',
but moi to(joso erjurl ed!)rafetdx !E&r
blouse had a gaft c(w as d-esdSfccP aftd
one of the butCffl5 Qjfiti tisfejQ. Her
skirt was cut do$U CCnUb of her
sister Lily's.
A girl in a front trj& srQ a locket
on a gold chain. The light struck it and
made it burn with yellow fire. The girl
was wearing a pale-blue, fuzzy sweater.
Lily had pointed out sweaters like that
to her. "That's angora," Lily had said.
"It's very expensive, and it feels soft as
a kitten's fur."
The teacher came over to her. "I'm
Miss Kirsten, your new teacher," she
said. "I hope you like our fourth grade."
The girl pulled her eyes away from the
angora sweater and smiled shyly at the
teacher and the principal.
"I'm sure you'll be happy here," the
principal said. When she left, the door
clattered loudly behind her.
Miss Kirsten turned to the class and
said, "Class, this is Marcy Graham, our
new pupil. Say 'Hello' to Marcy, class."
"Hello, Marcy," the class chorused.
"Would you like to hang up your
coat, Marcy?" Miss Kirsten asked.
"Yes," she answered. A few giggles
rippled the quiet and Marcy flushed.
They stopped when Miss Kirsten said,
"Leona, would you show Marcy where
to hang her coat?"
The girl with the locket stood up.
"Yes, Miss Kirsten," she said. She was
taller than Marcy and her yellow hair
curled around her face. "It's out here,"
she said, leading the way.
Marcy followed eagerly. Maybe this
will be my friend, she thought, my first
friend in this school!
"The cloakroom was dark. There was
one window high in the wall.
Gray light showed the black iron
coat hooks stuck out like crooked
fingers. Marcy took of! her raincoat.
"That's an ugly raincoat," Leona said.
And then, when Marcy didn't answer,
"What's the matter with you, are you
deaf? What do you say when I say
that's an ugly raincoat?"
"I say it isn't," Marcy answered in a
low voice, turning to face her. The ach
ing hurt grew into a slow anger. Lily
had given this coat to her. It was the
fifit rCQl raincoat h$ hgd ver hgri.
"It & tc2). And you'rft an ugly giri."
Ljajflrjl 9US)d -i& her KgndS on hOr
hi$$ lg gtentad fflP op3'"t. "ou cfln'fc
fiang youPfcrflt kflPO." She 8intad fcC
&8 Staff fwccft, fTio d$9r& "Iian ife
cajfir EtoJ56."
JJ3& wt& ffCji flu cty ttofoit? i
gill $&2 3(y nCrroaOd tftifiot
enialj, Raofl thrown up, lips parted.
On tear spilled over, but she Wiped it
quic&ly away.
"Cry-baby, cry-baby," Leona taunted.
"Don't call me names," Marcy said in
a tense low tone, holding the other
youngster with her eyes.
oi
Marcy turned once more to hang her
coat on the hook. She had to stand on
the shelf meant to hold rubbers and
books. Her foot kicked against some
thing hard.
"That's my violin! Don't you touch
my violin case!" Leona said. She
gr&tfoed the case and held it tightly.
Marcy's eyes burned. "I didn't see
it," she said, clenching her teeth.
For a moment they looked steadily
at each other, measuring. I won't let
you make me angry, Marcy was think
ing, I won't, I won't, I won't. Her eyes
were bright, her cheeks flushed, but she
didn't move until Leona put down the
case and turned away. Marcy followed
her back to the classroom.
Miss Kirsten looked up as they en
tered. "You may sit there, Marcy," she
said, pointing to a seat near the win
dows. "Thank you, Leona."
As Marcy went to her seat, she saw
Leona whisper something to the girl
beside her and laugh.
"Class," Miss Kirsten was saying,
"remember what I told you about the
recital this afternoon." She looked at
Marcy. "We have recitals every month
at Brookwood. This afternoon our class
is presenting it. You'll enjoy hearing
your new classmates." Miss Kirsten
smiled. "Leona plays the violin very
well." Marcy saw Leona lower her eyes
and smile proudly. "And Mack is going
to recite 'The Charge of the Light
Brigade.' Perhaps next time you'll be
able to take part, too, Marcy."
"J"he bell rang for lunch and Marcy
stood up to file out with the
others. Miss Kirsten called her
to the desk. "I want to give you your
books now," she said, taking some from
the cabinet. "These are yours until
June. You may put them in your desk
for the time being."
By the time Marcy came through the
line with her lunch tray, there was only
one seat vacant at her class's table.
Leona was on the same bench, but
there wre two girls between them and
Marcy didn't look her way.
"Hello," said the boy across from hr.
He had a lot of frccglcs and 0 U'icfe
t8thed smile.
"Hello," she ffcid. Sfi9 remembered
Q Ft in fron$of hQv.
"TEhere did you o fefoiQ pta cQ&Q
here?" he as&ed.
"We lived in Albany," Mgrcy an
swered. "I went to James Monroe."
He sipped noisily at his igilk. "They
used to have strawberry milk last
year," he said. "Do you like straw
berry or chocolate?"
"I like plain," she answered. "I never
tasted strawberry." She felt her anger
melting away. Maybe this boy could
be her friend!
Then she heard Leona call derisively,
"Look who's talking to Marcy Graham!"
"What's wrong?" Mack inquired.
"Nothing. If you want to talk to
her." Leona laughed.
"What's the matter with her?" Mack
said, sliding along the bench until he
was across from Leona.
Leona whispered behind her hand
across the table and Mack laughed. He
reached his hand back in front of Marcy
and pulled his tray over and then whis
pered back to Leona and they both
laughed out loud.
Marcy's face burned. She concen
trated on eating her lunch, but she kept
thinking, "I hate you, I hate you, I
hate you."
When the bell rang she was first in
line and when they lined up behind her,
laughing and pushing each other but
not talking to her, she felt the tears
start. She reached in her pocket for her
handkerchief, then remembered she
had left it in her coat. As they marched
along the corridor she bit her lip to
keep from crying and when they got
to the classroom she went into the
cloakroom first to get her handkerchief.
The hook where Marcy had hung her
coat was bare. She saw it in a small
heap on the floor. The coat was dusty
and wrinkled as if someone had walked
on it. "It was Leona," she whispered
in the darkness. "I know it was her."
Absently, .she brushed off her coat
and hung it carefully. When she stepped
up on the shelf her foot touched the
violin case again. She sat down on the
shelf beside it and ran her hands over
the dark leather. The gold lock glinted
in the dim light. It felt cold and hard
under her fingers. When it snapped
open, the click startled her.
The violin was a rich, shiny brown
and lay in dark red velvet. The wood
was smooth and warm. The strings
stretched taut under her finger. They
would snap with a ping, she thought.
The strings made a thin humming noise
as she stroked them.
Bxperimentelly, M&rcy tOsted their
tightness. They would snap so asily!
But the violin was beautiful 8v8n if
it was Leono's. She strogad th(J fsGl
onc9 mora "Phe feOl oP it, tfe ricQHOfi)
of the velvet 0gftjn9t tfta glOQttin
wood, the wjjy the lovely curves of the
instrument fitted into the matching
curves of the leather case touched and
softened the hard thing inside Marcy.
She sighed and closed the case. The
lock made a loud click in the quiet
cloakroom. Marcy didn't care.
Family Weekly, February 2, 1958
15
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ACTION
American Council To Improve Our neighborhoods
WWW F