Casper Daily Tribune Newspaper, March 4, 1923, Page 25

SUNDAY, MARCH 4, 1923. Casper Sunday Morning Cribune STORIES BY CASPER PUPILS---THE TRIBUNE'S HONOR PAGE PAGE THREE Dicky Makes a Common Mistake NE DAY as Dicky wandered over the prairie he spled a dear little erry animal sitting behind a mound of dirt. He hid behind a busb so as not to frighten the little fellow. “Pshaw, you needn't hide!” chuck- led a merry voice. ‘The little furry creature lifted his paw and shook it in the direction of the bush, “Come on out, sonny. I see you. I am not like most of you in the least.” Dicky came from behind the tree and Isughed. ‘Well, you're a funny prairie dog,” he called, “for moat of you, the very second they spy a boy, genera'ly run as fast as they can.” “What, prairie dogs?" chuckled the furry little animal. “I have seen many of them, but I hadn’t noticed— “Why, aren’t you a prairie dog?” Dicky asked. “I thought you surely were a prairie dog.” “Tam sorry,” Caughed his compan- fon, ‘but Iam not. I am a marmot or in common every-day language I'm a woodchuck—just a plain wood- yhuck.’* “Well, I'll eat my hat !f you're not bduUt like a prairie dog,” Dickie laugh- ed. “Hoe has the samo stout body, short tail, and round head that you have. I would have bet my last cent you were one.” “I'm glad I'm not,” laughed Mr, Woodehuck, I've been called so many things, I'm beginning to think I don’t know just who I am, Now, some folks call me a ground-hog. Vhink of thet! I'll admit I do live umder the ground most of my time but I can’t say that I eat so much, so why call me a hog? Ground-hog! Pahaw! The title makes me shiver. Then, to think folks say that if I come out the second day of Febru- ary and see my shadow, I go back, and that makes a late spring. Did you ever hear anything so ridiculous in all your Ufe? Just as if we fel- lows had anything to do with the weather, “How did peoplo ever come to say that about you fellows?” Dickey “I've heard it many times.” “Just so as to have some one to Dbiame for the late spring, I guess,” chuckfed Mr. Wroodchuck. “The truth of the whole thing {s I get so tired of sleeping and so hungry during the winter months that I grow restless and hungry, so I get up to find something to eat. If it’s warm and the weather's nice, I don't go back to bed, but if it is cold and stormy I crawl back to keep warm. Cloudy or sunshiny, it doesn't make any difference. If it’s cold outside I stay in bed longer then I do when it's warm. “t's a funny old world.” Mr. Wood- chuck chuckled = merrill, "But it “SOULS FOR SALE’—-A Great Novel of Hollywood Life BY RUPERT HUGHES CHAPTER XXIX—(Continued.) Mrs, Bteddon was one of those craven wretches who would have told) a million es to keep one poor soul) from belng dumped into hel!. She/ never quite understood the extraord-| inary precedence the truth had us-| urped over love, mercy, courtesy, and) convenience. She never led in her) own behalf or to save herself from _ blame. She sometimes lied to shift blame to herself from her children.’ She Ited to the children about Santa Claus, about how quickiy bad child-| ren are punished and how inevitably good children are rewarded; about how infallibly right their father was, ‘and such commonplace household) perjuries, She lied to her husband incessantly about how wise he was,’ how eloquent. She applied untruth generally as a kind of arnica, a first aid panacea. Her only hesitance now concerned | just what untruth it was safest and ‘most satisfactory to tell him. She was a wicked old woman, and it was small wonder that she rupidly | fapsed into enormous popularity among the lost souls of Hol!ywood. Fortunately, her daughter left hé& alone for a while and she had time in| her bedroom to work out an attrac: tive lie. She must say that Mem was well. That was a good, solid fact to rest the springboard of fancy on. She must explain that Mem had left Palm Springs for Los Angeles. Why? ‘Well, because she had a chance to improve her posittion—and her doctor had said that Palm Springs was too full of palms or something. A doc- tor’s advice was the best bet, because a doctor was the only huinan power that her husband recognized as su- perior to his own impulses. Next, what was Mem doing In Los Angeles to support herself? She had written that she needed no more money from home, It wou!d be fatal to say that she had enterea spon a cinematic career. And it “uld be adding humiliation to infancy to ad. mit that she had lost her job even in that inferno. . Mrs. Steddon chewed the end of the penholder into pulp before a Nght trom some inspired her. Old Increass Mather, in explaining how | old witches did not aiways sink when thrown into the water, observed that the devil can also work miractes, and it must have been Beelzebub who up- place \ Our Honor Roll First—Nellie McCash, Sixth Grade. Second—Mavis Krauss, “Dan, the Faithful,’ West, Fifth Grade. Third—Kathleen Bullack ,“Harriet’s Tenth Birth- day,” Elk, Fifth Grade. BEST SEVENTH AND EIGHTH GRADE STORY Amelia Shikany—“The Sto: of the America Flag,” East, Eighth Grade. o BEST POEM “Sandy of the sen, East, Seventh Grade. doesn’t hurt me. Let them blame me. I don't care,” and he gathered up a packful of acorns and scurried away. Dicky watched him out of sight and then shook his head. “He's a funny little fellow.” he murmured, “But he surely did look Uke a prairie dog." GERTRUDE EMERICK, East Casper, Grade 6. es Springtime When snow and ice melt away, And ‘trees are fresh and green, And the children laugh and play, The birds again are seen. Flowers are red, purple, pink, The streams are fresh and cool, When it rains the flowers drink And glance in Spring and Pool. T love to hear the birds sing, And pick the lovely flowers, I like to watch green things, Growing in the bowers. LORRAINE STERLING, Elk School, Grade 6-A. eS th Ri Lincoln as a Boy BRAHAM LINCOLN was born in Kentucky, on February 12, 1809, His father was a sensible man and his mother was @ hard-working wi. man and very intelligent. When Abe as he ts sometimes called, was 7 years of age his father decided to move to Indiana. So they did. It was a hard trip, and they had to cut down trees to get through. When they reached Indiana they had to go to work building another cabin, Abe had learned to use an ax and rifle, so he helped his father hunt and build their new cabin. One time when he was working in a grocery store in Illinois he came to find that he had overcharged a cus- tomer 6 cents, so at closng time he walked three miles to take back the 6 cents. BURTON PAGE, East Casper, Grade 5. held this old witch of a Mrs, Steddon in the deep waters about her. But the miracles of hell, ike those of heaven, confer only a temporary benefit. Doctor Steddon would accept her falsehoods without suspicion, but woe unto her when he should learn the hideous truth. For the moment, however, Mrs. Steddon was inspired to write to her trusting husband that she found Mem in very good health and engaged in nice, light, ladylike work in the pub- lic Ubrary at pretty good pay, consid- was boarding with some right nice Jadies—also in library work—at the address given. She closed with some remarks on the beauties of California, a land the Lord had been awful par- tial to. ° ‘As she finished this letter Mrs. Steddon felt dizzy. She wondered if her giddiness might be the first symp- toms of whatever it was that carried oft Sapphira and her husband. But, remembering that Sapphira had fallen down, she decided to le down first. She fell asleep, and did not know that Leva Lemaire, peering in an seeing her there stretched out, white haired and benign, had looked upon her as a tired saint and, tip- toeing in, had spread over her a Nav- ajo blanket of barbaric red and biack. While her mother slept Mem wept, more freely and copiously than fn all her life before, a CHAPTER XXX No word had come from the studio as to the result of Mem’s test pictures. ‘There was no telephone in the bunga- low to ring a verbal message in or take one out. Mem could have gone to a drug store and te’ephoned from a pay sta- tion, but she was afraid to her her fate come rattling out of the little rubber oracle. She wanted to meet her destiny face to face and make a battle for it if the issue hung in doubt. She simply had to have work now because she had her mother as well as herself to support. She was still too new to realize that need is not a recommendation or a substitute for ability. In so far as it has any bear: ing in the case, being hard-up is an argument for disability, Jobs are offered most promptly to those that already have them, and those who Sawdust Ring”—Lawrence Jorgen- “The Magic Weed,” East, | The Happy Girls’ Bread Club HE HAPPY GIRLS’ Bread Club is a name that just fits its members, as they bring their |] bread with smiling faces every two || weeks to the meeting. This club || started as all others do. We have members dropping out after the first few meetings but we have |] the loyal ones who really make the club coming to every meeting with loaves of golden brown bread, Every two weeks the Happy Girls meet with their bread. The Happy Girls enfay thie meet- ings, for interesting games aro played and thelr bread 1s tested. If you stepped into the home of a Happy Girl on the Friday before the meeting you wou'd see her eagerly setting the sponge for the nice brown loaf of bread she will bake next day. If you stepped into this home again Saturday morning "you would see her bus- ily making the dough and about two hours later would see her knead it. It would then raise and finally be ready to put into the oven. In an hour she would bring out a golden brown loaf of bread look- ing as smiling as the girl hersdf. A while later she has her bread wrapped in paper and goes to the meeting. Here she gets it tested, with a smiling face she fs proud of herself, as she thinks of the many women much older than she who buy their bread because they cannot make it, These girls will always bake their own bread, for it {s clean and pure, and made by their own hands. LIZZIE HUBER, Elk School, Grade 6-B; Secretary Elk St. Bread Club, have work to offer rarely seek those who are {dle. As Mem hastened along a palm- lined avenue to her street car she was hailed by the man she had refused to dance with, the handsome Mr. Creigh- ton from whose arms she had fought herself free in rage and terror the first evening of her arrival in Holly- wood when he tried to make hor dance. Another evidence of the distance she had traveled was the fact that she had danced with him often since, and that when he invited her to step into {s automobiie she hailed him as a taxxt-angel and ordered him to rc@) her to her studio at top speed. He had bought himself a new racer, a long underslung craft of desperate mien, “I can’t afford a car,” he con- fessed, “and it’s all bluff, but when you're hunting a job it makes a great effect to roll up in your own road- ste ‘The impudence was contagious and Mem calmly remarked: “I must get me a car. What do you think is the best make?” The two noncapitalists blith!y juggled thousands of dollars and hundreds of horse-power. “What effect do you want to af- fect?” sald Creighton, “If you're go- ing to play ingenues you'll want a shy and virginal auto; if you're going in for adventuresses and heavies, you'd better get a bus that’s a bit sporty.” Mem thought she was nobly con- servative when sho said: “I shouldn't like to be too consple: uous.” “That’s right, the gaudy old days are over,” sald Creighton. “The plo- neers out here went in for pialds and gold brocade upholstery and every- thing outrageous. Then Jeanle Mac: Pherson made a sensation by having her car painted plain black, and now almost everybody is very sedate—ox- cept Roscoe, of course. He is so big he has a Jumbo car." Mem was good enough actress to conceal from Creighton the fact that her interest in the makes of cars was a mere windshield to the cold gale of anxiety playing on her nerves. She | was in a panic lest she should not be ngaged at all. Her immediate prob: em was not the selection of an auto- mobile, but the assurance of food and raiment. je iB George Washington ANY years aga, on the 22nd day day of February, a little baby was born whose name was Gecrge Washington. His father was a far- mer, who planted great crops of to- baceo and exported it from one city to another, His father’s name was Augustine, and bis mother’s name was Mary Washington. She was a very wise and good woman, and George ld¢ved her dearly. When George was a very small boy his fa- ther died. His mother reared him in a comfortable log cabin along the Rappahannock river, Just opposite the Uttle town of Fredericksburg. George was honest, truthful, obedi- ent, bold and strong. The boys all liked him because he was brave and strdng. Hoe never td'd a ie. His mother had a wild colt. The boys dared George to get on the colt’s back. After a hard struggle the boys got the bit in the horse’s mouth. George mounted the horse’s back and away the horse went through the meadow. ‘The horse fell and broke a blood ves sel and died. George went to his mother and sald, “Mother, your horse is dead.” ‘Who killed it?" she ask- ed. “I did," said George. His mother sald, “I loved the colt, but I am glad my told told the truth.” She would rather lose afl the colts than have George tell a lie. In the early days he loved the woods and waters, but he saw his mother did not wish him to become a sailor, so he stayed at home. When he was 16 years of age he stopped going to school and became a surveyor. He liked to wark be- cause he liked to be out-of-doors. He liked to bunt and swim and row a boat on the river. All these things helped him greatly to be a bold and healthy man, When the time for him to be a soldier, two nations were fighting. They were France and Eng- land. England thought that if she would ask Washnigton to he'p her, that they would win the war. Eng- land won after a terrible battle. Just after that Ameriéa had war with England. While Washington was looking after his farm in Mount Ver- non, things looked bad for America again. He fought in the war against England, and was head of all sol diers. After the war was over he marrfiji Martha Fairfax, All the American boys and girls knew her. After they were married they went to Iive in a beautiful house on the banks of the Potomac river, in Vir- ginia. He was president of the United States for two terms. We celebrate his birthday each year on” February 22nd. LLOYD TAGGART, East Casper, Special Class, Grade 8, Creighton rolled her up to the stu- dio gates and waved her good luck. Sbe faltered when she entered the casting office. She almost fainted when Tirrey’s assistant told her liuntly that there was “nothing do- ing.” Mr. Tirrey had so many hearts to break, so many hopes to sicken with deferment, that he avold- ed the ghoulish task when he could. He had warned his assistant to save him from undergoing another of Mem‘s assaults upon his emotions, ‘When Mem received this curt facer through the little window in the door between the waiting room and the outer office she blenched and fell back. The room was full of anxious souls, each with {ts desperation. There sat a hungry fat woman, whose bulk had | kept her employed when sylphs had had to wait. Next her was a gaunt creature who could piay Famine or a comio spinster with equal skill. A brace of sparrows with ye¥owed curls that looked like handfuls of pine shavings waited with thelr;moth- er. Three beautiful young men with thd eyes of dying deer perused their finger nails for lack of mare excit- ing lterature. An assortment of vil- laina, first and second murderers, and more or less aristocratic extra folk stood about, hoping against ex- perience. Scattered among the laity, they would have passed for ordinary folk but, grouped here, they took on @ curtously professional mrummer's air. Mem stared at them and a hot re: sentment thrilled her, She would not) accept a place in this mob of nonen-| ets were empty, and the rest of the} tities. She went back to the window| and motioned to the assistant cast-| ing-out director. She pleaded for just | Yeast \ Gast is a form of plant It feeds upon sugar and starch, It grows and multiplies very rapidly. Tn order to grow the yeast plant must have warmth, alr, moisture and food. Yeast grows best at a tempera- ture of about 82 degrees, So it 1s best to keep bread dough as near this temperature as possible. At a lower t8mperature it grows more slowly, and if in too low a temperature it will not grow at all, Bo bread dough should never be allowed to get chilled. Yeast will not grow if in a much higher temperature. If it gets too hot it kills the yeast so it will not even grow after it becomes cooler. There are many different forms of yeast. Our grandmothers usea to make their yeast out of hops and potatoes, but now we general- ly buy our yeast at stores. The kinds mostly used are compressed yeast and Yeast Foam. Yeast Foam and Magic Yeast are in a dry form and sv can be kept longer and are usually used by people in the country who can not get fresh yeast every day. Bread made from Yeast Foam has such a sweet, nutty flavor that I like it better than bread from any other yeast, but it takes a little longer to make it. I lke to use Fleishman's compressed yeast be cause it works so fast. It should be bought fresh each day. Besides the yeast that ts bought at stores there are many kinds of “starters” used. Theso are start- ed with yeast and allowed to work or ferment for a time then kept in a cod, dark place until wanted for use, A Uttle of this is left each time and a little flour and water added to it so it will be ready for the next baking. Bread that has no yeast in it is called unleavened bread. I have never eaten any but I don't ima- gine it would be very good. The yeast in bread feeds upon sugar and starch and forms alcohol and carbonic acid gas. This gas tries to escape and in pushing its way out it makes little bubbles in the bread. This is what causes bread to rise and become light. The heat when baking the bread kills and drives off the gas. REVA BEER, Member Bread Club, Elk School, Grade 6-A. @ moment cf Mr. Tirrey’s time. The assistant said he was busy; but he could not snub those eloquent eyes. and that patient man, Mr. Tirrey, with a Samaritanism that should win him through Purgatory, accepted the ordeal, invited her in, and braced ht self for the familar business of the undertaker, the old sexton in the graveyard of art. “I don't think you realize how much this means to me, Mr. Tirrey,” Mem began. “My mother has un- expectedly arrived. I've just got to support us both now, and !t is more important than ever that I find work," Poor Tirrey had heard this so often that {t ought to have bored him. But hé could never quite protect himself “The room was full of anxious souls, each with its desperation.” from these oxpressivo, passionate in- dividuals who refused td become mere generalities, He was like one of Saint Hoover's men doling out food about the world, Hunger was bunger no matter how frequent, But he was unalfe to perform miracles and feed hungry thousands with a few loaves and fishes, When his loaves and fishes gave out the bask sufferers must go vacant He said he was sorry; and he was He would keep her in mind, Ho with woeful tears, were more beaut! [Editor’s Note—The Tribune will print each week in the Magazine Section of the Sunday paper this depart- ment of prose and verse by the pupils of the school.s Only the best articles will be printed, and each week an Honor Roll will be published, containing the names of the three best stories of the preceding week and the authors. The Tribune Story Contest Editor will judge the stories and an- nounce the winners weekly. Fourth, Fifth and Sixth Grade stories will be judged to- gether, and Seventh and Eighth Grade stories together. Today’s department contains some stories from all these grades, but the best will be chosen in each class, respec- tively. All the stories are written in school, under the teacher's supervision, and the contestants are not permitted to get help from their parents or tro position.] m older persons, in the com- ABRAHAM LINCOLN’S BOYHOOD N February 12, 1809, Abraham| Ifncoln was born. The place! where he was born was very poor. It was not like Washington's fine plan-| tation. It was a poor Uttle log cabin| in the state of Kentucky. He help- ed chop wood for the fire and helped| supply the food for the table, for he| had learned to use the rifle. When Lincoln was 7, his father de- cided to move to Southern Indiana. Abe was handy with an ax and help-| ed clear away the trees and build the| house. ‘There were few schools in| this frontier country. Abe had onty| 12 months ct schooling in his whole} fe. To get his education he bor-| rowed books from 50 miles around.| Once, working at a general store, he found that he had overcharged! a customer 6 cents, That evening he walked three miles to return the money. When he reached the age of 20 they moved again. This time to Illinois.| ‘Once again the family packed up their few belongings and started out. Then, without a good suit of clpthes, Abe started out in the world. SUSAN ELIZABETH KEMP. East Casper, Grade 5. ABRAHAM LINCOLN’S BOYHOOD N FEBRUARY 12, 1809, in the woods of cid Kentucky, Abraham Lincoln was born. His father was a very good, easy- going man, and his mother a very hard working, ambitious woman, who taught both her husband and son to read and write. Abraham at the age of 7, with his family, moved to Southern Indiana. The journey was both hard and long. Abe helped his father build the new home. And as he, having learned to use the rifle with wonderful skill, helped very much with supplying the table with food. They did not have good schools {n the frontier towns, they were log cabins without floors, and” the win’ dows were covered with oll paper. Abraham, in all, went to school less of it, Mrs. Woodville. I can only hand out what jobs there are to the people that fit them best. You camo in the other day and said you were 80 ambitious and determined that you would—er—sell your hanor for an op- portunity. I told you why I couldn't make the exchange, Now you come in and try to sell ‘me your poverty. That {is even less—ah, marketable. There's a big Une of scared and bun- gry people always forming and fall- ing away out there, Some of them are old veterans with children, ar- tists who have done fine things for us. But we have to turn them away. Tf an old lady with sixteen starving pables asked me to let her play a young girl's part I couldn't give it to hen, could I, now?” “No, but I'm not an old lady with sixteen children,” Mem persisted, atu- pidly stubborn, “No, but you don’t sult the direc- tar and he's got the final say. Mr. Rookes gave you a test. Ho saw the resuit and says you haven't got com- edy—at least not in that part. Com- edy is difficult. It takes twice as much skill and expérience as roman- tie drama. You may havo it, but you didn’t stow it." 0 “The test wasn't fair!" Mem per-| sisted. “I didn't have any help. He just told me, ‘Turn your head, smile, laugh, wink, filrt’ Who could do anything worth while Ike that?” “I kndw, but St cost the company about $50 to make it. It's the test everybody has to go through. An-) other girl went through the same ordeal and she made good and got| the job. I’m mighty sorry, but the) only job there was 1s gone. Mom struggled to her feet and) turned to the door. But the sight of| that plank, that coffin lid, made her recoil. She could not go out into the! wilderness, She could not go home to her mother and confess failure, accept despair, Her lps wavered childishly, She found things in her) throat to swallow. Her eyolashes| were full of rain, Her diaphragm be-| gan to throb. Sho cried beautifully. honestly. She | was not artful about it, or Insincere. | It was a gift. She suffered with ex- quisite ease and grace. She was one of those protty things it ts hard to caress, in whose wail there is a keen and compelling mu- alc. ‘Tirrey found himself more dang: erousty wooed by her grief than by her proffer of love. Her shoulders were pitifully round; her hands/ groped for other hands to help; her| eyen, reen blurred and monstrous than“12 months. Long afterwards he wrote, “Although I am of age, and didn't learn much, I am able to read, write and cipher a little." We may be quite sure this was a modest sen- tence, because he sald as sad as he learned to read and write, he grew more hungry for knowledge. As Abe grew older he became very strong. The hard life with ax and rifie had given him muscles of steel. He was one of the best wrestlers and runners in that part of the country. They said he was so fair that often he would take no part in the ath- letics but wold be, umpire, Ale was known in his boybood as “Hon- est Abe.” Several years tater, while Abe was running a general store, he found one night, that he had over- charged a customer 6 cents, and that night, walked three miles to pay It back. Wien Abe reached the age of 20, his father decided to move again. This time to Illinols. Abe helped his father and mother pack there few belongings in a wagon. He then started out to seek his fortune. DOROTHY WEAVER. Bast Casper, Grade 5, ABRAHAM LINCOLN’S BOYHOOD N February 12, 1809, in a log cabin in the woods of Kentucky, Abraham Lincoln was born. When Lincoln was but 7 years old the family moved to Southern In- diana. The journey was hard and rough. In many places Abe and hia father had to cut down trees to get by. When they got to Indiana Abe helped his father ear the land and bulld the cabin. ‘They stayed in In- diana for thirteen yeara, and then moved to Illinois. Lincoln helped his father clear he land again in Tilinos and build the house. After the house wan built end the land cleared, Linocin went Lincoln in His Boyhood BRAHAM Lincoln was born on February 12, 1809. His father was @ hard-working man and his mother was a obeerful, ambitious wo men. When Abe was 7 years of age his folks moved from Kentucky into Southern Indiana. In some places they had to cut down the trees to make a road. Abe could use an ax, and he would help his father cut down tho trees, and helped him built @ new cabin. Abe learned how to use @ rifle, and supplied most of the food for the table. ‘They did not have good schools in that frontier country—the schoot- houses having no floors or desks, and ollea paper for windows. Worst of all, the teachers did not know a great deal. EVELYN COEN. East Casper. Grade 5-A. February They say it’s growing colder every day, That winter's growing bolder every every day. Since the Woodchuck’s gone to sleep, In his cavern dark and deep There will be siv weeks of snotes ing, Of freezing and of blowing. The birds will soon be singing, Northward they will be wingings Though the frost is in the air, You'll find a friend everywhere. They gray skies are growing clearer, And the Springtime’s growing nearer. LAWRENCE JORGENSEN, East Casper, Grade 7. Tony, the Little Bear. NB day as Tony was lying on the ground asleep something came over him all of a mudden. It was un- usual for him to think of such @ think. But as he did, he awoke just in time to see a big black eagle fly- ing over him. He was so frightened he did not know what to do. So as the quickest thing he thought of, was to jump up and run around the house as fast as he could go. He was a pet of the children who lived tn the house Ho came running up to the door all out of breath. Of course the chil- dren wanted to know what was the matter so they took him in the house and petted him and played with him, It was not long until he had for- gotten all about it, and was soon lit Miko the world™to “begin life for himself. RUTH MILLER. East Casper, Grade 5, ful, somehow, than when she had tried to fill them with seduction. His heart ached to draw her into his bosom, kiss away her tears, take her upon his lap, and soothe her like a child, one of those terrible children that Satan pretends to be when ho is most insidious. Mem was a dangerous weeper. This, would be learned in time and turned would not forget. turn up. the busy wretch was tormented into a slight impatience. self-defense. “You don't seem to get my angle to her great profit, agony of the multitude, acting now. She was reacting to the anguish of the bitter world, its hide | elty, its bleakness, the favoritisms of fate, the willingness of Providence to let the willing Me idle and the ambitious starve. Tirrey paced the floor, promising Mem ail sors of wonderful futures. He managed hardly to keep his hands from her by intrusting them to each other to hold denohed behind his back. But his sympathy only fed Mem’s self-sympathy with new fuel.| At the screen door that opened on his office appeared Mr. Rookes, director, who had rejected Mem after the test. He did not know who was crying, but his emotional soul heard the call and he peered in through spectacios already misted. Mem saw him and ran to him, fm- Ploring, “Please, oh, please, Mr. Rookes, give me a chance!” Mr. Rookes had a priestly regard for his altars. A work of art was as |solemn and as chaste a burnt offer- ing to his god, the Public, as the ob- lation of any cther priest before any other deity, It was as mcred a duty to him to secure, somehow, laughter for the comle scenes as tears for the path- etic, ‘The Public, that shapeess, in- visible ubiquity, needed its mirth as well as its lamentations. It required not only {ts hecatombs of human sac- rifice, but also beeves and bullocks, sheep and Iambs, doves and wrens and swallows. Rookes know ns well as Shakes- peare knew, that the pathos and the tragedy suffered if there wero no at- tendant buffocnery, no relief of ten sion, no tightening and releasing of the springs of laughter. If an actor could not command laughter he must not be intrusted with comic rojes, however serious hi necessities. Rookes wid have le his mother his daughter rather than aive her # part she could not play. or dis Something might| When Mem fatled to go,| He stooped’ to} and the blissful) She was not) the | back out fn the sun besiie the house. HELEN LANEY. Park School, Grade 7th. fe Only those who know little or noth- ing of the dramatic world, or whose own hearts are so hard that they do not care whom they wound, pretend ‘that the world of mimic emotions is cold or cruel. It {s amazing how much of the theatrical or cinematical | time is spent in easing the inevitable griefs of the vain suppliants. Mem‘s sobs 80 agitated Rookes that he finale ly said: “You come and see the test yourself, and then, !f you think you ought to have the part— Well— you come and see for yourself.” He opened the door for her and le | her out into the lot, Ho called to man smoking on a short flight of steps: “Helnfo, have you that reel of Mra, Woodville’s test I took the other day?" “I guess 0.” “Put it on, will you.” “Sure! Go in Number Two.” And now Mem, who had seen #0 | many faces flow by tn the laboratory Projection room and had been so free with comments and criticisms, was to see her own scul unreeled. She felt a |sudden rush of regret for her harsh those poor creatures who had had to fight for thelr ar tistlo ves with their features. | Rookes escorted her into a small |c@l, dimly lighted, a screen at one |end; at the other a few seats against |a wall perforated for the projection machines. The cperator in his room at the back, snapped off the one Iamp on the wall, and then played e long stream of light upon the screen. Every portrait was a record ef some mood of Mem’ It was weird to seo herself over there flat and colorless, yet fantastico: ally allve. She was face to face with herse'f for the first time. Science had answered the prayer cf Robert | judgments on Burns, ‘Oh, wad some power the gittie gle us.” Mem had studied her mirror and still photographs of herself, but now she mot the stranger that was herself as the world knew her, She had never realized her features as they were; nor her expressions. She could look at her own profile. She could coldly regard herself in laughter and in an effort at Mirtation, The miracle of miracles was that her very thought was photographed. She could see her brain pulling at her muscles, as one who stands behind he scenes at a puppet show sees the man aloft and the wires that depend from his fingers jerking at the Joint ed dolls. (Continued Next Sunday)