Bemidji Daily Pioneer Newspaper, February 22, 1922, Page 2

Frank Lloyd production, ., hagte and in tears. _THE sEMmu DARLY PIONEER ™7 wwaay RN T “HER MAD BARGAIN” AT THE REX THEATER TODAY “Her Mad Bargain,” a First Na- tional attraction .starring Anita Stewart, i8 the: picture at the Rex theater. il deals in realisti manner with the life of a pampered siciety: ~idol . who - suddenly finds berself cuf off; from alf the wealth nnd luxuries she has heen accustom- ed to. Faced by this situation, atter- 1y unable to make her own wuay in Yife, she enters into a mad bargain that will insuré her the extravagant things of life she has been usedito having. The story.camhines tense realism with pathos, humor and swift ae- tion. charming in the leading role of Alice Lambert. One unusual scene is shown in an automobile accident where the stai xuns over.a small boy. Only a blood transfusion can save the lad’s life and Alice Lambert, humble and pen! tent -as-the result of her carelessnes offers herself. i The part of the young boy is pla ed by Ernest Butterworth, who wiil be remembered by his juvenile roles in “What's Your Hurry,” and “The Love. Special.” His intense human characierization of the young news-! hoy adds immensely to the picture in £ mischief. Walter McGrail has the mele role and the balance of the cast includes Arthur Edmund Carew, Ge trude Astor, Helen Raymond, George B. Williams, Adele Farrington, Mar~ ot McWade, Will Badger and ercy Challenger.. - i “THE MAN FROM LOST RIVER” COMING SOON A powerful photodrama of conflict- ing love interests, with its locale a Northwestern lumber camp, is prom- jsed by Goldwyn, when the latest “The Man From Lost River,” is shown at the Grand theater, for two days, begin- ning Saturday. The story is the first oviginal photoplay written by Kath- arine Newin Burt, whose two previous stovies. “The Branding Iron” an “‘Snowblind,” have been made into stivring motion pictures by Goldwyn. “The Man From Lost River” pic- tirey the trials of a powerful, patient lumber camp foreman in_‘‘standing by” the girl he loves while a weak nephew of a millionaire marries her, néglects her and eventually proves his utter unworthiness. An act of Provi- dJénce strips all ‘the character in the play to their fundamental fineness or Daséneds, at the same time that wick- edness receives its- just reward. House ‘Peters gives an exception- ally« fine; performance of the strong Tumber. canip foreman. Fritizi Bru- nette is the girl who cannot see where her. true 1gve'lives, and Allen Forrest i8 a_polished, cultivated weakling. - LON CHANEY IN “THE ' PENALTY” GRAND TONIGHT At, the Grand tonight, marks the veturn showing of one of the greatest motion pictures ever produced. One that will “stand out” for some time to come, as the onc of the unusual. Lon Chaney, Claire Adams, Ken- neth Harlan, FEthel Guy Terry, Cherles Edary, James Mason, play the characters as Gouverneur Morris saw them when he wrote “The Penalty.” “Blizzard,” played by Lon Chaney, whose character work as “The Frog” whos o " will never be in “The Miracle Man” will never be | Which was bequeathed by the late Rob- forgotten. In “The Penalty” he has a part that is unique in the annals of the screen. Blizzard, the legless mas- ter of San Francisco’s underworld, | whose satanic hatred of humanity is/ tinged with the fantastic cruelty of an unbalanced,mind, is perhaps the most unusual hero ever presented in a motion picture production. Lon | Chaney’s marvelous characterization | sure to be greeted as one ‘of the fin-| est picces of acting ever done before the camera. “OPEN YOUR EYES,” AT REX THEATER THURSDAY Gaton Glass, who plays the role of “Alex Valentine,” the Broadway “rounder” in “Open Your Eyes” the flaming photoplay at the Rex theater Thursday and Friday has had a me- teoric rise to fame. Glass, who is a ‘modest sort of chap, was an air stu- dent in Parig when the war broke out. Enlisting in the French air service he became an ‘“ace’” only to be so badly wounded after two years of fighting ir the skies as to be discharg- ed from the service. The immortal Sarah Bernhardt took the young man under her wing and he came to Amer- ica as an actor in tne Bernhardt com- pany on her last tourc While in this country the movie ‘“bug” stung Glass, and he did not return to France | with the rest of the company, but| went to work for a large motion picture company instead. He was leading man for Marguerite Clark in several of her productions. He play- ed opposite Alma Rubens in “Hu- moresque” and is soon to be starred in_ “Open Your Eyes,” which was pre- | pared under the supervision. of the public health service of the United ‘States government, he was chosen to create *“Alex Valentine.” His suc- cess in that role} shows the wisdom of this choice. : % | “REMODELING HER HUSBAND" | AT ELKO THEATER TONIGHT “Remodeling Her Husband” which appears at the Elko theater in repeat showing tonight only. is a rollicking picture about a disillusioned youny bride and a flirtatious husband. Doro- thy Gish is the chief funmaker, and, like 211 of this vivacious star’s vehe icles, the pace is rapid and laugh-pro- voking. Miss Gish has the role of Janije Wakefield, who marries a handsome young philanderer, much against the advice of her girl friends. The new bridegroom has & failing for pretty faces. After several of his mix-ups with other ladies, Janie leaves him in s\ DU TN DU DL é NEWS OF THE THEATRES TR nn s Anita Stewsrt is bewitchingly | huband goes to ruin and a young doc- i - its’ contribution of humor and nnivei“’r.) Please One Woman,’ leading “find,” Mona Lisa, | Kress. Just after he left congr NG | long and she soon /devises a mnovel means of curing her husband of his flirtatiousness and of-making of him a model spouse. i James Rennie i8 the leading man, “Remodeling Heér’ Husband’” marks his debut in pictures, we believe, tho he is well known in stage circles. Lil- lian Gish brancles out as g director with this film and ddes a‘very excel- lent job. “Powitg ‘Clarke; Frank | Kingdon, and Mariey Burke are also jin the cast.? The”picture is a Para-| mount Artcraft. W £ I¥ “TO PLEASE ONE WOMAN" AT THE ELKO THURSDAY |’ Coming to the Elko theater for|: two days, commencing tomorrow,i Thursday, is Lois Weber’s latest pho- toplay, “To Please One Woman which is deseribed as a dramatic ex-| pose of some little known facts of | married and near-married life. S84 The story is laid in a country vill- age near the sea and portrays the | shadow cast upon two romances by the. whims of a selfish woman. 'To satisfy her capricious wants, her tor is lured from his small-town sweetheart. However, matters adjusi themselves satisfactorily in the end, and the tyrant-woman is foiled. Miss Weber herself is the author of * and the cast includes Claire Windsor, a new George Hacka- thorne, Edward Burns, Edith Kessier and Howard Gay It is « Paramount picture. PR OPEN FIREPLACE A NUISANCE Wamen of Past Generations Consid- ered.the Huge Affairs of Those Days as Unnecessary. Nowadayg one of the most convine- ing proofs that you can give to the fact that your city apartment is of. the highest class and unlike the ordi- nury is to say that it has “open fire- place.” Kven a single “open fire- place” in un apartwent is enough to raise 1t from the shoddy majority. And, of course, when we dream of ownng a house in the country most of 1s, nine out of ten of us, think of an open fireplace as a sine qua non of such an abode, But our grandmothers had ne such opintons of open fireplaces. Open fireplaces were a real humili- &tlon to the woman“who+*had them in her house 50 years or more ago.” At least that feeling prevailed - in®this country. A small grate fire, that held a few shovels of coal, was| another matter, but the sort of firepljce where legs burned ncross firedogs was—well, it swag one of the crudities that uost | persans did not like to possess. Yes, there “wik™ {=timewien ‘n Frankltn burner or a drum stove-was -consid- ered more of un ornament to the well- furnished drawing room than the | gort of wide-hearthed fireplace that we covet nowadays, | LUCKY ARTIST WON FORTUNE Comfortable Sum Beque;\hod Painter | Who Had Reproduced Features of Beloved:Daughter. A fortune of £46.000, ($230,000), ert B. Hawley, president of the Cubnn- | American . Sugar compauy, to Mr. | Learned and his fumily was the ro- ;mantic sequel to My, Learned having painted a portrait of the sugar mag- nate’s dead daughter, Mr. Hawley made a fortune in' the export business, and in 1806 he was elected to con- 3 hiy daughter Sue dicd, and he was heart- broken. The only likeness that he possessed of his joved one was u small | photograph, and this lacked much of the fine animation that had character- 1zed her face. | Taking the photo Mr. Hawley went | to Arthur G. Learaed, a rising young | artist, and asked bim to make a por- | trait that would recall something of the inspiration the girl had been in her father’s life. . The picture was wade and it exceeded the hopes of the grief-steicken father. The latter was S0 greatful that he became on the clos- est terms of friendship with the paint- er and his family. Mr. Hawley, died In Nevember und left to Mr. Tearned and his wite £20,000, ($100,000), and to their little son £2,000 ($10,000), and A trust fund of £24,000, ($120,000).— Manchester Guardian Weekly. An ordinary passenger locomotive consumes a pound of fuel for every 52 feet it travels. Every unnecessary stopy made with a heavy freight or passenger train, represents a fuel loss ol from 500 to 700 pounds of cual, depending on ‘the weight of the truif, the length of the stop, and the grade conditions, writes Floyd W. Parsons in the World's Wiork. - A brakeline alr leak on a train of 50 freight cars has been kmown to cmuse a loss of as much as 2,340 pounds of coal in a ten-hour period. The loss iof coal gvery time, 2 modern locomotive ‘popg oftifor five’ mgnutes is about 75 pounds. If loco- wotive firemen were to save a little ‘uore than ong shoveiful of coal out of every ton, used, the total saving would be equal to nearly 1 per cent of all the coal handled. We can only say that If the boy whd startd to school with a smiling face 1s not a hypocrite, he is abnormal ‘Paraguny proposes to get along here- L But her buoyent apirits do-not permit her to. meurn grter with an army of 1,000 men. Um— (Continued from last’ issue) CHAPTER XVIII, The Last Fight. It was early in the morning, and BIL Dale had just sent for Ben Little- ford. The hillman hurried to the of- fice, for he believed he knew what ‘was in the air. He had already gone to work at the mine, and his thick beard, his face and his hands were black with the dust of coul. “Sit down, Ben,” said the general manuger. “We're going to hold a council of war.” Littleford took a chair and crossed his legs. “Is it the Ball outfit?” he drawled, “Yes,” answered the younger maun, and forthwitlt he told the other of the news that By Heck had brought Nim a few days before; he had not given the mutter really serious considera- tion until that morning. “Now,” he finjshed, “I want to;know whether you think there’s any danger?” Littleford tugged at his’ blackened beard and frowned. “Bill,” he said soberly, “do you rickollect what John Moreland told you oncet about them Balls? He told ye ’'at you wasn't safe, and ’at, he wasn't safe, ontel they was dead and buried, didn’t he? I believe he did. By Heck says the's a whole big passel o' them Nuwth Cw'liner Turners; he’ shore them and the Balls'll outnum- ber us more'n two to one. Yes, the's danger, Bill, and ’specially to you. They think it was you killed Adam. and they don’t think the law handed { 'em a square deal at the trial.” “Then listen to this plan,” said Dale. - “PIl keep By Heck.up the river watching for them. - He will have three: sticks of dynamite’ tied together and capped and’ fitted with a fuse. If he sees them coming this way in any- thing Jike a force, he will fire .off the dynamite-ns”i signirl to Qur men will gather here in the upstairs of this building, aml bar.the doors—" “Oh, Bill,” moaned the old.fighter, ou shorely don’t think we'd ever let git to the doors!” hope they don't, certainly,” smiied Dale. “Where are your rifles, BN “At . the mine,” said Tittleford. sce, Biil, we've been alookin’ trouble.” Dale went on: “At By Heck's sig- na!, T'll get on my borse and ride to the lowlands for the Morelands. I can get them a lot quicker than I can get “Ye fo' competent help from the law. What do you think of 1t?" “It's a good plan, I reckon,” growled Ben Littleford, “only 1 don’t cotton very easy lo the idec o’ us a-runnin’ from the mine to this here buildin’. I never did like fo run from any man wo'th a durn, Bill.” “But that wouldn’t be cowardly, Dale protested. “It would be pur u strategic move, and It would save 1"’// //%/ “Guns and Hom;, Boys!” lves for us.. Fof, when the Balls and their kinsmen come, you'll have to de- liver me into their hands or you'll have to fight like the very devil, that's sure; and, according to By Heck’s fig- ures, they outnumber you more than two to one.” “All right,” Littleford replied, with a shrug of his huge shoulders. “What- ever you say, thot same we'll do.” So By Heck was sent for, and short- Iy afterward he sneaked into the lau- rels and went off toward the settle- ment_of the Balls. In. the ¢rook of his arm he carfied his rifle; and Mmside his shirt e earried three pieces of dyna- mite all ready for the match—and be chose every step ‘with great care for fear of jarring the explosive too much. He had not been' gone an hour when Bill Dale heard a dull, smothered roar from sowewhere' to ‘the; northward. Dale sprang up from his desk, ran to his ready and waiting horse, mounted and rode like a streak toward the lowland. 3 Dale arrived at John Moreland's big white farmhouse a little before the | middie of the day, and halloed lugtily at the gate. John Moreland and his two sons hurried out in response to the call. Dale waved aside all greet- | ings -and inquiries -after his health, and ‘told that which he had come to tell. The elger Moreland turned quick- 1y to his two stalwart sons— “Guns and hosses, boys! IUll be our last fight, and le’s be at it and make it a good fight” L than five: minutes later the three erstwhile mountaineers rode out at the barnyard gate with full belts of cartridges around their waists and with repeating. rifles across the pow- mels of their : saddles, and joined Dale. The four, hastened to the homes of the other Morelands; and not long afterward the old clan, in full strength, rode toward the big, dim- blue hills withBill Dale acting as its leader. It was to be the clan’s last fight, and a fight for a good cause, and every man of it was -eager for the fray. . 2 Bill Dale borg himself proudly, and he rode liké @ man born to the sad- dle. e found--n. queer joyv—a joy that brighteneld: ‘his - steel-grey eyes and flushed . hisr sunburned cheeks, a joy that he didn't even . attempt to understand—in the thought:’ “IFor this one day I'am a clan chief; I am leading my own people against a foe, in my -own country—" And so overwhelmingly did the idea take hold.of Lisp-that he wished, even then, for the ' repeater . that awaited Iim at his: office ‘back in the heart of the mountains. Once his conscience asked him a question—and he an- swered it with another question. Was he doing that which was right? Might not. the Littlefords all be killed. by those - drunken cutthroats while he was ‘waiting for the arrival of a com- pany of militia from a city miles dis- tant? Anyway, the militia would fight. His { ¢lan would do no more than that. He satisfied his conscience quickly. When they had reached the lower l,-»n\l of the cleared valley, there came | to them the sounds of slow firing, the firing of snipers. Each man kicked his horse’s flanks uand rode faster. When they came in sight of the heé- sleged building, they saw puffs of pow- der-smoke rising lazily from the upper windows and from the mountain’ side above and to the right. Again they kicked the flanks of their horses and rode fast At John Moreland's old cabin they dismounted hastily and turned their horses into the drab meadow. With Dale still leading, they hurried on foot to the river's nearest bank and went rapidly, under cover of the thickly- standing sycameores, to a point within seventy yards of the office and sup- plies building. Then they made a dash across the open space, and Ben Lit- tleford, with one arm bound up in a red-stained blue baudana, opened the door for them. “Who else is hurt?” panted Dale. “Little, Tom,” answered Littleford, “and Saul. Liitle Tom, he got a bul- let onder the shoulder. Saul, he got one in wmight’ nigh the same place. They've riddled the whole tother side o’ the house to splinters. They're a-callin’ fo’ you.” | “They'll get all they want of me,” Dale growled. / l‘ He turned and. ran’ up the rough stairway, and Ben Littletord and the Morelands followed close upon his heels. At the front and side windows, beliind anything they had been able "t find that would stop a bulfet, knelt . Littlefords with rifles in. their hands, ‘patiently watelfing for a human target to/appear ou the mountainside above. Saul and Little Tom lay in a corner, where they were fairly safe from chance bullets. Hayes had bound up their wounds as well as he could with ithe materiat at hand. They were both white and helpless and suffering, but still full of the old Littleford |’ fighting spirit. Dale seized his Winchester and|: belt of cartridges from the hands of the man who had brought them to | him, and turned to the others. A bul- let crashed through the wall and struck the floor at his foot; he paid no attention to it. “Listen to me, boy<” Dale was buckling his cartridge-belt with rapid, steady fingers.. “From where they are hiding, the Balls and Turners can hardly see the lower_story of this (Contnuecd on Page 4) INTENSELY HUMAN ; BY NO MEANS THE DEMIGOD HE HAS BEEN DEPICTED. ® With Strong Powers of Self-Con- trol—Naturally Melancholy. ‘ The Father of His Country would hardly have fancied himself in:the role, of a demigod—as folks nowadays are disposed to regard him. ‘Hewas very human. E aERE ‘When a young man, his hair'was: cldedly red. At the age of fiftyshe was quite gray, and .on “occastons ‘of ceremony his locks (done up .in a queue) were freely powdered, a¥ was' .the custom of the-day: His teeth from early manhood gave him a great deal of trouble. They were, in fact, badly decayed-—dentistry at that period being an undeveloped art —and this circumstance ratber marred his good looks when he smiled or laughed. He was also cobsiderably, pock- marked, having suffered an attack of smallpox at nineteen years of age, while in Barbados with his invalid brother. Those were days when most people had smallpox sooner or later, vaccination being as yet unthought of. At fifty-seven (when inaugurated as President in New York), he had lost nearly all of his teeth. Ile then wore a false set of hippopotamus ivory, which made him very uncomfortable. In sitting for his most famous por- trait, painted Iv.v Gilbert Stuart, his lips were .padded out with a wad of cotton. He secms to have had little sense of humor, and unquestionably was of # most melancholy temperament. The dinners he gave In New York were described by his guests as dull affairs. As a rule, he sat silent, ratber sad of visage, und taking little part in the | conversation. While others talked, he edgze with fork' or spoon—a curlous habit he had. He had a pronounced weakness for gambling—though - alwa; held in ¢hieck by a reluctance to commit him- self imprudently. A born speculator, he constantly engaged in land deals. 1lle subscribed to every lottery and raffle that came along, and would spend many hours at a stretch with 2 pack of cards, though usually a loser. To attend and bet on a horse race, he often went to’Annapolis, or even as far as Philadelphia. = Spelling was by no means his forte. To the end- of his life. he wrote “win- der” for window, “latten” for Latin, ete. Nor'is this surprising,” inasmuch as his education was finished in a vil- lage school. The style of bis penman- ship, so neat and clear, followed the \stereotyped _copies of . the “Young igulde of his boyhood. i At Mount Vernon he had a very de- icent collection of books, but his read- ing seems to lave been restricted .mainly to works on farndng and inili- itury science. How he managed: to ievolve the:classle literary style that :marks his public and private writings s a puzzle not easy to solve. The discussion here attempted, how- .ever, is not of Washington’s many per- ‘fections, but of his human weaknesses —to show that, like the rest of -us, he was far from godlike. ‘This most admirable of men had certainly a ter- rific temper. He could swear on oc- -casions with alarming emphasis. A 'story, well authenticated, is that he ‘pitilessly beat an Alexandria butcher with a horsewhip because the meat- merchant had exposed for sale a deer that was recognized by the master of ‘Mount Vernon as killed on his own ‘plantatton. In 1759, a few months after his mar- rlage, he wrote: “I am now, I believe, fixed at this seat, with an agreeable partuer for life; and I hope to find more happiness in retirement than I have ever experlenced amidst the wide ‘and bustling world.” Note, if you please, that Washington was then only twenty-seven years old. Yet his attitude of mind was elderly, ‘with a teuch of sadmess. On his return to Mount Vernon, after. the war, he wrote to Lafayette: *I called to mind that I was now de- wscending the hill T had been fifty-two years In climbing, and that, though Dblessed with a good constitution, 1 was of a short-lived family, and might soon expect to be entombed in the man- sion’of my fathers. But I will not re- ‘pine. I have had my dgy.” ' Thitk of writing in such terms at ‘fifty-two years of age!—a time of life ‘at which men nowadays consider that ithey have barely reached their hey- ‘day. Washington, as a matter of fact. had still fifteen years to live, eight of jwhich were to be spent in administer- sing-the -affairs ‘of the nation-as its President. But he was always & melanchly man. For many years before his death the prospect of his departure “from; this worlg, seems to-have peqq;pl;nst?mfly 1ii his mind. \¥hence, presumably, the reat hiiterest: hie tooki“in th& removal of the.old family burlal vauit at Mount Vernon. which was belng undérnined by aif underground stream. America’s Predominant‘Figure. One hundred and ninety years have elapsed since George Washingfon was born. One hundred and twenty-three ‘years have elapsed since he died. He never saw a railway locomotive, 2 xteamboat or an electric light. But he still lives as the predominant figure of American history and the annals of ‘Amerlcan statesmanship record mno ‘state paper that even approximately compares with his farewell address. ‘ UBSCRIBE FOR THE PIONEER "REAL WASHINGTON | Admittedly of Violent Temper, but |- would keep tap-tapping on the table- |- {Man’s Companion,” which, was ‘the | WELL CALLED “MODEL TOWN” Industrial Community in “Massachu. setts Approaches the ldeal as a Place of Residence. Of the town of North Billerica, Mass., a correspondent of the Boston' Transeript writes: As one walks about town he is pleas- antly surprised by the appearance df cottages and gardens. They represent various types -and. periods of construc- tion angd ‘evidence, of individuality in taste, but their ‘charm-Hes mainly in thelr gardens. Here one discovers the feminine tonch . In | delicate vines, trained. over roof, porch, fence und wall, or in a ebarming porch box fitled with color, harmony and grace. 1 The more ambitious maculine effort is detected in spacious gardéhis, show- Ing evidence of muscle and determi- nation. | Evérything, however, reveals the hand.‘of the'‘lamdscape designer who, by’ his ‘advice and supervision, has helped to create and maintain the desired effect, being careful not to de- stroy the individuality that is so im- portant a part in any garden, and thus the yearly competition feeds the very natural clement of ambition. “Do you feel that you secire a mate- rial advantage by employing a land- Secape designer to beautify the grounds about your plant and help your tenants in making and maintaining their. gar- dens?’ I asked Frederie §.. Clark,: president of the Talbot mills. “It is impossible to state from a ollars and cents standpoint the effect of ‘the landscape work, or of any of the other featurcs which we have in- troduced outside our purely business relations with our employees,” he re- plied.. “I am s'ad, however, to say GVory way are of a very friendly churacter. We have had but ome strike,of any moment, and that was sbout 25 yeurs ago. Our jabor turnover is comparqtively small, which fs an indication of satisfactory employment conditiops.” Section Men Watch Step. Section men are known for their deliberate . movements.. They mneter get In a hurry unless tliere Is some urgent work to be done. As long as they are on the go they are supposed to be working fast enough. o Track workers on the subway lineg are even more deliberate in their moverents _ thas . men . employed .on regular railrouds:: Where the old-time section workers “had to .look -out for fliers and. occasional- freight trains, the subway" track-men’ have to be’on the wateh for ‘éxpress and local frain§ passing every few minutes. In addi- tion, they’ve got to have a care for the third rail. In crossing the tracks every movement.is taken with the des dealing current always in mind. A hurried, reckless step might end fatally. Probably in no other line ot work Is efficiency so measured by slow work. Community Problems. The fundamental problems of any community are based upon four things —production, - labor, . transportation, morale. Its prosperity, of course, is dependent upon production. Produc: tion in turn is dependent largely upon ties for transportation. By morale is meant the spirit that permeates the people and gives them the will to suc- ceed. NEWOMAN (& A Dra;na!ic Expose: of’S Married and Near Marrjed Life. ELK(Q T™URSPAY AND FRIDAY LOUIS B. MAYER Presents Anita Stewart —IN—— “Her Mad Bargain” A FIRST NATIONAL ATTRACTION This Day, Dec. 1st, 1920, I have accepted from David I Leig $50,000. In return for same, I agree to dispose i of my life one year from date. i R A = dli Be See Her Through-th"e Tragedy that Led to the Bargain —Through the Fleeting Year that Leads to an Over- powering Climax." ° Educ,afional Comedy In Twp Par'ts—A Mermaid Matinee 2:30—7:10-9—10c & 25¢ COMING—“THUNDERCLAP” | '\ LON CHANEY | ‘CLAIRE ADAMS- KENNETH HARLAN . | | In Gouverneur Morris’ “THE PENALTY® The amazing story of a man with half a body and half a soul— IF YOU HAVE NOT SEEN IT—DON'T MISS IT! If You HAVE seen it, you'll enjoy it more in seeing it the second time. In the delightful comedy-drama, published in Sat. Eve. Post—“LITTLE EVA ASCENDS” and . “THE MONKEY SCHOOLMASTER” IIIlIIlI“HIIIIIIIlIIIIiIIIIlIIIIlI|l|l|HIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIlIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII|I||IHIIlIIIIIIIiIIIl' 1 ? TOMORROW—GARETH HUGHES | | SRR, al labor and is made possinie by faciii-,