The Bismarck Tribune Newspaper, March 12, 1927, Page 4

PAGE FOUR 3 The Bismarck Tribune An Independent Newspaper THE STATE'S OLDEST NEWSPAPER (Established 1873) eee? N. D., an feanen Bisma: jass mail matter. George D. Mana. one ..+.President and Publisher Subscription Rates Payable in Advance Daily by carrier, per yeat ..........+ Daily by mail, per year, (in Bismarck) Daily by mail, per year, (in state outside Bismarck)... Daity by mail, outside of North D: Member Audit Bureau of Circulation Member of The Associated Press The Associated Press is exclusively entitled to the use for republication of all news dispatches eredited to it or not otherwise credited in this pa- yer, and also the local news of spontaneo origin publizhed herein. All rights of republication of ail other matter herein are also reserved. ———— Foreign Representatives G. LOGAN PAYNE COMPANY ICAGO DETROIT fone Bldg. . ao Bldg. PAYNE, BURNS & SMIT! NEWYORK - | - - Fifth Ave. Bldg. (Official City, State and County Newspaper) An Ode to Spring Fever It is only in the very early springtime, properly speaking, that mankind can be said to revert to the | untarnished wisdom that was its original heritage. This is only another way of saying that spring, fever, which is usually maligned as 4 disguised form of ordinary laziness, is in reality one of the mos: lofty, clear-seeing states to which man can attain. Spring fever, oddly enough, does not appear in its most virulent form when spring is actually here. It is brought on well in advance of spring. An un- seasonably warm day late in February or very early in March causes a veritable epidemic of it. For weeks there has been disagreeable weather ins, snow or cold, or at best gray days without character or color. Then, unexpected comes a day that must have got lost in last year's April and dropped into the procession out of turn. The suv is warm, the air is balmy and caressing, the earth seems alive. On such a day comes spring fever. What are the symptoms of this malady; and why should one remark that it represents a state of extreme dom and blessedness? Well, consider it for a moment. the average man has his nose so close to the grindstone that he cannot look about him and sec truly how fair is the world in which he lives. His mind is filled with cares and worries that are of the rent and unpaid bills and whether he'll be able to buy that new suit thi< month or had better wait until next. His daily jo» is of magnified impertance; he cannot conceive of himself except in connection with it. Then comes a good attack of spring fever. He quits work at noon and steps out to lunch. On the way back he loiters. Perhaps he stops, ere On all ordinary his way to make his walk last longer. These are signs that wisdom has descended upo: him. He feels, deep down, that he is not, after ly to be succeeded Churchill beamed as he stood) Published by the Bismarck Tribune Company, tered at the postoffies at ing a bridge, and leans over the railing for #; time; perhaps he even goes a couple of blocks out of sound of hundreds of feet as every person in the courtroom rose to p: honor to the majesty of the law, ithe person of stern-faced, tight- \ped old Judge Grimshaw, whose tall, heavy body was draped in the bla folds of the traditional judge’s robes. | The court crier chanted with the | fervor of a religious devotee the age- old formula, that fearful, ing “oyez, oyez,” which lude to every grim drama of earning a pay check and supporting a family, but a true son of light, basking for a moment ‘on this delightful planet on his long flight through in finity. The laziness that besets him comes because he realizes that he is superior to time and can afford to be prodigal of it. He knows, though he will forget it later, that the chief end of man is not, after all, the getting of dollars and the laying away of stores fer a rainy day; he realizes that he was born to a heritage far above that of a purblind toiler, and that, though he appear to his fellows as a clerk or a mechanic or a lawyer, he is in reality an immortal wanderer fror: regions far away, whose trailing clouds of glory stiil exist even though they may go unnoticed, Coolidge’s decision to pitch his vacation tent in the west is a wise one. Probably he will learn something of its problems. | Editorial Comment | The Presentation of News (Rochester Democrat and Chrenicle) An interesting study of the changes that have . taken place in the manner of handling news recently was made by Orland Kay Armstrong and published by the University of Missouri School of Journalism. Mr. Armstrong compared all phases of the news- papers of St. Louis from 1875 to 1925, but the most marked changes were noted in the handling ef news. Some of the changes noted were the elimination cf pure scandal, abandonment of the practice of coloring news editorially, development of the prac- tice of telling the whole story in the first sen- tence or paragraph. As an example of the kind of scandal news that was published in 1875 but which could not find its way into a modern newspaper, the following was ited: A ‘soiled dove’ in Munice, Indiana, having been sent to prison, has put a number of the nicest young men of that city on the ragged edge by exposing their connection with her. In 18 the death of a prominent citizen was heralded in this manner: Hon. William Shepherd, one of our oldest, most prominent and popular citizens, breathed his last. ... Today the death of a president of the United States is told this way: President Hatding is dead. Fifty years ago the story of an accident begun somewhat in this manner: A shocking accident cccurred in this ¢ ning. was y this eve A German girl named Carrie Baseman, abou: 20 years old, attempted to start a fire with coal oi! After several sentences the reader learns ,that the girl who started the fire lost her life. Toda’ that would be the first fact mentioned in telling the incident. ae These changes and many others noted by Mr. Armstrong, such as the method of handling are changes in the direction of making the new: paper an accurate, unbiased and judicious report of the facts of life as they are. which the newspaper thus has recognized the intel- ligence of its readers and their right to the facts it has gone further toward its complete fulfillment of its public duty. ne | room news, referred to on this page some weeks ago,| Washington knows thes i To the extent to| house on Pennsylvania THE BISMARCK TRIBUNE SN all, a mere animated machine made for the purpose | Reing Intimate Stories of the ? BY ALLENE SUMNER story of her baby carriage robe en- (Copyright, 1927, NEA Service, Inc.) tered in a national knitting competi CHAPTER V tion gave her even more publicity The Blue Room. The Red Room. than the president's electrie hobby The East Room. The horse. The White House does not All America thai like what it calls “undignified per. 1 publicity.” The First Lady even has knit sweaters for the’ White House dogs, Prudence Prim and Rob Roy, accord- ing to a prominent senator's wife who told me that Mrs. Coolidge was completing a dog sweater when she last. spent a Sunday evening in the White House. fe dining comes to rooms in the White House. A card from one’s One hires a taxi, d congressman. ives up to the avenue, is ushered in by Ike Hoover, custodian | of the doorway and may gaze at the! gold piano in the East Room and the beautiful marble fireplaces, And never a tourist but looks curi-| “The poor dogs y at the grilled iron door at the | Mayflower,” the t Lady explain- t of the hall which leads to the ed to the senator's wife. private quarters of the president and| There are two pianos in this fami- by the scraping | unemployed actors, A precarious | his family upstairs. ly living room. When she is not game the acting has been this year. | But never a tourist gets behind| knitting of an evening, Mrs. Coolidge Agencies daily face crowded corri- |the closed iron doors. Som lis apt to be softly playing at the dors and office line. Invariably | however, during the" year, Washing: | piano, first asking the president of the shuffling away of another heavy- hearted one. Not a pleasant report to send forth into a country where, no doubt, a considerable percentage of the young ponulation dreams of a stage career. But a scene to ponder on if the urge is too ‘strong to resist. GILBERT SWAN. - | there is the shake of the head and | pell-weav- the pre- at which | ton’'s official folk do get upsta The tales of life up there be the locked iron door, have a sav & ae United States if it will disturb | him. ‘or| There are two pianos because Mrs. of plain, simple Amer living as| Coolidge and her secretury, Miss it is lived in any $5,000-a-year home,| Randolph, often play duets at the They tell ‘of a big, bright living}end of a strenuous day of corres- room at the south of the White! pondence and visiting delegates and House, overlooking the Potomac. afternoon teas. It is a room full of massive and| Chapters are told of life in that omans Side of Official Life in the Capital om et so cold on the ¢ says. Fy ate trial for Chris, because Church- Eijn the middle of the night and w: Brushed to the f the blind goddess presid aside to allow the two sisters to greet | each other. When Faith had kissed| TOMORROW: While jurors are he- | Cherry twice, her arms holding the| ing chosen, public sympathy veers | little figure tight against her breast,| sharply toward Chris Wiley, the lawyer thrust out a hand to his| critically ill in a hospital. lovely little client. (Copyright, 1927, NEA Service, Inc.) | “Well, well, Miss Cherr you're iss 3 ae RS ‘TIN NEW YORK looking ‘a perfect picture! If all my ee clients were as pretty as you are, I'd New York, March 12—The never lose 4 case.” At the press tables, pencils raced! over pads of yellow paper. Two rafters of the Metropolitan Opera stage are musty with past romances. | There is the tale, for instance, of | artists sketched furiously. Jim. Lane, humble, darkly flushed Paul Althouse, for ten years a lead- ing tenor, and Caruso’s costume. Al with shame at his conspicuousness, stumbled toward his daughter, mum- bled “something beneath his breath, | then, drawing a trembling hand|thouse has it to this day and it is|@way from civilization tu bee across his eyes sank back into his| an heirloom of no small sentimental | “killer,” due to unjust treatment at chai¥. Cherry fluttered to her seat| value. | the hands of his master, and how he between her father and Faith. Shortly after Althouse had made eventually comes back in time to/etepnally knits? What she said to Faith was!his debut he was called upon to play | save a girl's life and his master’s Gharacteristic: “Do I look all right,|a double bill with Caruso, the young- honor. Plenty of splendid scenic honey? Gee, I’m scared stiff, but no- jer man as Turidu in “ R backgrounds and a swift-moving bady-“could ‘tell it, could they? Isn't Churchill the old hypocrite? I had an} awful-fight with him last night be- * cause’I told him I simply wouldn't under any circumstances, no matter : she trial goes against me, = him“try to slip in a self-defense plea. ‘ for the stockings, darling. 3 “Jittle. leather slippers 2 @hoe-store sent over the ‘saleaman you ever saw. Tried to flirt with me, the devil! Oh, by the way, I got four more proposals of marriage yesterday. Churchill wants me to give the letters to the papers, but I won't do it. Isn't he a nut on 2 publicity? He'll simply die if they ¢ don’t run his picture and sketches of him every aay. Oh, that good- looking artist is sketching me now. I hope he doesn’t make my nose any more pug than it is—” Faith listened with a slight smile on her lips, slipping in. a word now and then, but her eyes were fixed on the door through which Cherry had} And a priceless heirloom it is to- come. What was keeping Chris |day. Wiley, Cherry's co-defendant? Pee! “Where is Chris, Cherry?”. Faith) Speaking of music, an amusing asked at last, in a whisper. story js related by Ernest Schelling, = “Oh, hadn’t you heard?” Cherry’s|whose children’s concerts in New eyes narrowed and her voice grew/| York and Boston have met with much cold. “He is sick, or so Churchill | success. Chris’ own special lawyer, Mr.| It is the habit of this conductor Penny, is going to ask for a separ-|to go among the children after the, concert and talk to them about the | great composers and their work. | One day he was telling them about Haydn and after he finished, he “Now, children, I want you to tell me what you think of in connection with Haydn?” i “That's éasy,” came a small male voice. think of hide ‘an go seek.” ticanna” and Caurso in “Pagliac Althouse apneared back stage in a! costume that flashed its newness and | blatant colors. Caruso, his arti let | it be taken off at once. “You cannot go on the stage with that terrible outfit, my bo; cried the great tenor, “It's terrible—you! cannot.” “What shall I do?” asked the trem- bling Althouse. “I have no other. And the curtain rises in a few mo- ments.” to Pasquale Amato, the baritone, who stood nearby. Each grabbed a leg of the costume, while an attend- ant rushed to Caruso’s private ward- | robe, returning with a great armful of costumes, “You shall wear this tonight. And then you may have it as souvenir,” commented Caruso with a slap on the back, 2 ill won’t agree to have my trial ad- journed. He feels that he has sym- pathy for me up to fever heat now, Seund-he doesn’t want it to cool dur- | asked ing a oe Pagid ugae “But what is the matter with The pi pers, en't_mention- Mine: ‘aith protested, genu- neern in her voice. : ““ “He was stricken with mastoiditis Broadway is just a bit worried boat he Ve tre prob ens wat the! aughty plays so muc! empty | houses. More and more the theatre has been degenerating into a re: hospital, Cherry ai wwered careless!, ini her gently, “he estate game, with not . "t you care—at all?” products to fill. The p of “Ym sorry he’s sick,” Che! empty houses during the passing briefly, but her gold on has been x ething to make bis street stop and ponder. And ity. Further » AES between them | with Lent slipping in interrupted by the court crier closing, the: robs the spproach of the nite clatter of voices, the ‘papers, was old | sh “No, no!” Caruso stormed, waving! | (Copyright, 1927, NEA Service, Inc.) >—_—__________+ { At The Movies | CAPITOL THEATRE Bringing to the screen a vivid ture of life in the Canadian is Theatre. “Ranger,” find” in can- ine celebrities, has the starring role, and shows an uncanny ability to reveal almost human emotions. story deals with the dog's di now story plot add charm to the film, and help to build up a powerfui climax, James Hogan directed he production with a keen sense of |sensibilities stirred, demanded that | dramatic values, and was given ex- lent support by the leading chi ers, including Charles Delaney, Betty May, Boris Karloff and Eddy Chandler, Ewart Adamson uity. ELT THEATRE Harold Lloyd will be seen for the t times at the Eltinge this eve- @ in his latest comedy feature, The Kid Brother” which has been entertaining large crowds for the past two days. Much has been written about the great American play, novel and mo- tion picture. Many works, heralded as masterpieces, have proven on ex- ination and after critical sury that their greatness is a hope rather than an achievement. Without pretense to the laurels yet to be bstowed on the foremost native art work, which comes to the Eltinge for Monday and Tuesday, “Love 'em and Leave 'em,” does lay claim to the distinction of being as strictly American as chewing gum, ice cream soda or baseball. It is a character comedy of the lib children of Manhattan. It’s a jomely tale of everyday lives that | is not, however, lacking moments of | grandeur, The chief characters, Mame, Janie and Bill, played by Evelyn’ Brent, Louise Brooks and Lawrence Gray, e as much the product of their ew York department store and boarding ho environment as any- ine that has sprung from, American soil. 5 It Mame’s philosophy that there’s no use running after a fickle in—a theory borrowed from her ie iter which gave the title to the pie- jure. FT \ Justajingle xf 18 | The venneetee laughed when father) « And fell upon the Bat father chanced Le’ He doesn’t any more. wrow | ' both the original stery and contin-| te hear him, so rich old mahogany furniture, book-| upstairs room when there were two cases spilling out books, piles of|Coolidee boys, home from school, magazines and papers, lamps every-| stretched out before the fireplace, where, a fire in the open firgpl and talked of school matters’in a low and two people, extremely fe nt | voice so as not to disturb thé presi- during the daytime, merely Mr. and| dent. Mrs, Coolidge at home in the eve-| One night, an official visitor re- ning. calls, they planned to get new room- | They tell of Mr. Coolidge, glasses | mates when they returned to school. perched on his nose, sunk in a Mor-| Plans were completed when the presi- ris type of chair, a lamp behind his|dent, supposediy lost in his reading. shoulders, reading a paper or maga-| briefly said: zine. “The Coolidge boys will continue |, They tell of Mrs. Coolidge sitting |to room together.” in her cosy chair at the other side| Mrs. Coolidge looked up in dis- of the tabie, probably knitting. tress, the boys wanted their new One hears so much of the First | room-mates so badly! |Lady’s knitting. Her big scarlet and| “Oh, Calvin—!” she said. gold knitting bag is even the envy of| But that was all, and the Coolidge official women who do not knit boys went back to room together. And what is it that Mrs. Coolidge; There is an alcove off the big'liv- Well, many things| ing room full of potted plants and lang everything. But she has entered | birds. g n6é:-knitting competition since the} Mrs. Coolidge watches for new ‘OUR BOARDING HOUSE _ A nate a this PF Wa MY FAIRY Vow've BEEN Tene wey ~ Te AWE BONS ABOUT yy JUSTS Bee Nov GOING “To 0 *| TWEEDLING THE NEW YORK NETILE- HEADS Pe, F You'Re Gone <7 PAD~ 1 GOT ANNPLACE, 1 . WMemM~ With fg | THINK IT 16 “NO MONEVZ & out oF NouR ~~ WHAT A HEAD != Dest '. Bi cH. } C= { i L ne ~~ HSN V csnienecon | Sap’s Startin’ to Run at Last |buds on her begonias and calla lilies and geraniums as anxiously as any small town woman tends her fern. And the birds are put to bed with a cover over the cage just as Mrs. Main Street's birds are sent to sleep ach night. They say that the First Lady knits the bird cage coveralls, too, and has made an especially gay one for her |favorite bird, a linnet, which has the |coy little habit of midnight caroling, jmuch to the president's distress. And tomorrow you must hear bout Alice Roosevelt Longworth's latest, though her friends do deny that she jumps into fountains, as legend has it, Stjll, it'll he good! » aie eae ‘Old Masters |g Upon a cloud among the stars we stood: |The angel raised his hand, and looked, and said, “Which world, of all you starry myriad, iShall we make wing to?” The still solitude Recame a harp whereon his voice and mood Made spheral music round his haloed ead. I spake—for then I had not long been dead— “Let me look around upon the vasts, and broo A moment on these orbs ere I decide ... What is yon star that beauteous shines ‘And with soft splendor now incarna- ines Our wings?—There would I go and there abide.” Then “he, as one who some child's thought divines; “That is the world where yester- night you died.” —Liyod Mifflin: “The Flight.” By Ahern THE NEXT NUMBER “BE, “WW A LITTLE 5 SPANISH Town”. 1 oot BANG? BANG1 vids | Ci ont Fy SORRY Forks \ + PLEASE STAND BY ONES EZ MIBUTE, ae OUR RADI9 \ Pounce \ ° °; 0! To BE SUNG Wie © ° °o . HAS BEEN | SHOT? ait ion BUR UREN seb Sp AEOGM EA Is Soa SESH TAL sre renga ss SATURDAY; MARCH 12, 1927 Copyright, 1925, by Margaret Turabull: WNU Service CHAPTER 1—With a. stra r, whom, he introduces as his nephew. | Ned Carter, Claude Metnotte Dabbs | returns from New York to his 6 ce Valley Lyddy,” housekeeper, explains that Carter ia a chance Intance, Veteran of the World war, whom be bad met and taken & liking to. | CHAPTER I1—Carter tells Aunt with hie t because | Lbyddy he hus broken family and his sweet resentment. of o cranks,’ 4 ‘They almost run over a dow be- according to tl to’ be } , won of Loren Rangeley, New York vanker. Ned unaerstood he was being dis- missed, and picked. up his empty . As he crossed the dn sudden inspfration, “Miss Johnston, if there's any- thing uncle can di ore your new servants come, why let us know. Uncle might be able to get some one In Peace Valley to come for a day and help you out.” “Oh, do ask him! It would help immensely. Ned went out, determined that ft 4 should be done, and Mary decided that country people were really the salt of the earth, too good looking, with ‘an air im- possible to deny. How had he come by it in a country general store? While she wondered and put the | groceries away, Dorothy Selden, who could have told her all about the air and how it was acquired, waited at the gate for the return- ing “grocer's boy.” He drove toward her whistling. In face and figure he was all that | a lady might love, but’ his ex- pression was far from being either pleasant or inviting. He stopped whistling when he saw Dorothy waiting alone, and a heavy frown came to his brow. Dorothy swung herself into hix path, Ned endeavored to keep on his way, but the girl was deter- mined. Ned halted Jenny and waited. “So you've changed your mind?” No,” Ned answered promptly, and then in true country fashion proceeded to answer one question by asking another, “Where's Uncle Claude?" The girl ignored it, leaning on the wagon Insolently. “You didn't get ucross to fight,” she jeered. “No, Did you and father work to- gether to prevent it? I've often wondered.” “You've quarseled with your , charming but capitalistic father, and are down here working for your living.” Ned's mouth twisted {nto a re- luctant smile. “Is that all you got after pumping C. M, Dabbs?” “And you call youreelf ‘Carter,’” the girl finished ominously. “Right. Don't give me away” The girl nodded. to understand from that, but that you've seen the error of your ways and decided to join us.” “What am I “Why this pretense?” Miss Sel- den asked airily. “I assure you there's no need. your following me. down here. This is a refuge,.a haven where people lke ourselves may find freedom of speech, of thought, of actlon—” Ned looked at her. “And cos- tume?” he added. Dorothy, laughed, secure in the fact that whatever he thought of it, it was becoming. It was go- ing to be interesting, having Ned around. He must have cared more than she thought, to have followed so soon. How did he know? But she kept these things to herself and continued her pose. “I'm # worker, too, Ned. Mrs, Mann- heim—I came down here to stay with her, you evidently discov- ered—has a community garden, and I, well I do my small share toward making it a succes: “Don't let me detain you,” hint- ed Ned, lifting Jenny's reins, fear- fal that if he stayed longer he would spoil ber delightful theory of pursuit by the discarded lover. But Dorothy still held to the wagon and he could not go. “You remember Mrs. Mannheim?” she asked. Re, Ned nodded. “Oh, yes, 1 remem- ber her well, but I’m not anxious | to renew the acqusintance—under the circumstances. I hardly think she'd care to have ‘the grocer’s boy’ calling.” “Oh, I don’t think she'd mind, If I explain. Of course, it hasn’t been done. Among our own social set | distinctions simply do not exist, but we haven't included the village, yet.” “I'm sure that would never do. And now, please, where is—Uncle Claude?” “At the stonemasons, across the bridge,” Dorothy informed him for a moment relaxed her hold on the side of the wagon and stooped to recover Peter's leash. Instantly Ned and Jenny started down the road. ee ‘ Dorothy called to him, surprise io her voice. Was it possible her diagnosis: of the fleeing maid and the seeking lover could be wrong? ‘Why, Ned, ‘you're not leaving me like that: "are you?" “IT am,” Ned called back to her. “I'm busy this morning. You seem to forget that we workers must work.” The stonemason lived in a tum- tle-down old farmhouse across the Fri gats Malfway between Gover Hol- eace ley. It was beautiful to look at, from a dis- to the She also decided | that this young man was decidedly | I don't mind|,, botlr farii anid house lected! for years. ‘Yo Claude Dabbs the neglect was far more evident than the beauty. He put his empty box. down by what passed for a gate, so that it might be a sign and bol of hie presence to Ned when he came by, ahd went up the rougtr driveway to see Ettle Pulsifer and fifd out if Wiiam Penn Pulsifer had any in- tention of working this ‘week. Claude had gone to school with Kttle. He. remembered her when ghe was pink and pretty, and he hated to see her toiling with so Nttle prospect of reward for her labor. Kittle was at a tub in the back yard, washing, with two very small children playing at her feet. An- other ‘child, mot much older, was driving bis next brother ehant tha yaru a8 = ure engine. Two more / 4 children were leaning from an up- per window, trying vainly to reach a cat on the shed roof. The cat, being far more comfortable on the roof than it would be in thetr hands, was protesting. The oldest but one, a girl, was helping Ettle with the wringing. ‘My land, Claude, that you?” Ettie called, tossing back a dark brown lock with a wet, soapy hand. “William Penn Pulsifer's gone down to the village with Penvy to look about for some boards for somepin’. He told me, if you happened along, to say that he'd try to git ti chimbly pointed on Bert Oakley's house come next Thursday, if it don't rain.” “All right, Ettie,” Claude an- swered, and avoided lookin; speech. and Claude know that William Penn Pulsifer had promised to come next week Thursday for some ten weeks. But it-was Ettie's part to hold the ¥ * banner high and so screen some of William Penn Pulsifer’s shortcom- Ings, and it was Claude's part not | to peep through the rents in the | banner lest he might see the naked j truth, Kttle sighed as she looked over toward Claude Dabbs, who had Toots and the others on his knees and all about him. “I declare, Claude Dabbs, seems a shame you're an old bachelor, und you so fond of ‘em. Ought to have had a dozen of your own.” “Things are uneven in this fine world, Ettie,” was Claude's com- ment, as he looked up the road, along which Jenny and Ned were | tearing at full speed. a fine | young man visiting me. My adopt- | ed uephew.: Here he comes.” He walked toward the gate, followed | by all the children. | Presently Ettie, looking up from | the washing, saw that he was com- ing back again, accompanied by the | children and the young man. Jenny * ‘e had been tied to the last remaining gate post. Eittie ungraciously acknowledged Claude's fntroduction, though her mind was perfectly cordial toward the young man, It being no part of country etiquette to Jovk ' either | pleased or gracious on such an oc- | casion, lest advantage be taken. What advantage, aud why, ne one knows, but custom has apparently decreed that they who make their living from the soll shall, despite nature's generous teaching,. in- stinctively distrust thelr fellow ma yeen neg- © me jaude briefly outlined to Ettie situation at the White heuse concluded by asking: sould you do a day's general housework and cooking, Ettle, for the new folks up there?” Ly 2 “My lands, what's come to their cook?" asked Ettie, country fash- jon, refusing to commit herself up- tl she had all the facts spread out d fore her. “They left be- Ned: said easily: cause they thought It looked lonely. Servants leave, nowadays, don't they, without any yeason? Here Claude looked up and took hold of the situation, lest the en- ainst her washtub might take exception to this offhand city fel- low's way of explaining a case. “My nephew, here, says t! ‘8 just a young girl up there, trying to ran that big house herself and keep her mother quiet. I don't know anything about that, Ettie, but it would be real neighboriy to help out. I'll send Ned to take you there tomorrow morning—if you can manage It.” (TO BE CONTINUED.) ‘BARBS f Otto We Renn, the bea, oO . Kahn, e an! jave Prineeten, sige.) ten. rales me Suche ne was to “! wait tight.” Mr. Kahn, yout Sent” Shtitet Mr. Andrews’ feeling at all! ... Kahn urged the students to take an active interest in. publie affairs. But what this country needs most these days is a few private affairs... . You don't have to go through business armed to the teeth, was one of Kahn's axioms. What if you live in Mlinoi on reputation is the oa spiuable asset, he counseled, around income tax ti better hide that, too. me eee s The boys are getting ready for , their trans-Atlantic airplane hops.! | But cheer up, girls, the water will be | warm pretty ‘soot A New York man is getting ready to run across country to‘San Fran- cisco. Why stop at Frisco? A British woman, authority on animals, claims the horse is the dumbest of creatures, Three cheers, p men! These soviets kee recognition, shave, on demanding but they just won't Crime would fall off if the people ae would start paying on she pronte y hones, says a Michigan builder, The trouble is that with punctures’ and the price of gas, they're s0 hurd to maintain, , . in The English peoy ae ila Coat, ‘os reaps are not. drink- graduate magazine at Oxford Uni- versity. Maybe fersity, | Maybe prohibition would A THOUGHT He: that to shall defied tberewntee Stee. shall. be Company, villainous ; : been ‘the spull of me.-Shakeepe ‘ied