Evening Star Newspaper, March 5, 1922, Page 62

_ THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D.° 0, MARC’H 5, 1922—PART 4 FOR SERVICES RENDERED HIS is the tale of “Zomy" Sal, of the skipper®of the barque Nimrod, and of Ben Almond’s one hundred pounds. To get the full thrilling effect it should, of course, be reviewed from the angle of ‘Theodore Brunt. You know Brunt. He writes popu- lar stories—creepy, pallid things abrim with slimy facts. If you relish having your nerves laid bare by his pitiless scalpel, ‘then don't read this tale—to the end. For there is just one bet that Theodore Brunt has over- looked. Zomy Sal got her nickname one of the first nights she appeared at-Lee Hung's place. She was a hearty, si- lent young wonian—always silent, yet merry withal. Sowebody demanded where she hailed from. She, great buxom lass that she was, her cheeks still rosy red from English sun and fog, made answer. Her reply came loudly during an unexpected pause in the whirring oriental music. “Zomerzet!” she said, a Wry twist spends it. “Zomerzot! Did’s but I'd tell un—' “By gad.” cried Lady Nell, from Somerset! Who'll buy a drlnk for a Somerset lass?" * X ¥ X THE response was so uproarious that after this Lee Hung had the performance repeated each time an English ship came upriver. Thus came Zomy Sal by her name. How- ever, she showed little }iking for the performance, and became more silent ithan ever; the more silent she was, ‘the finer and heartier her warm smile. From all this you might easily de- duce that there was something moral- 1y unsound in the air. Such might be readily imagined—furtive women and careless men, nulsances of evil, dim lights and painted eyes. No, no! Metonymy is dangerous; the appeat ance does not always spell the real- ity. The Reverend Mr. Barham' charming cherub, “who couldn't sit down, for he hadu't de quoi is a case in point. Undoubtedly, Theodore Brunt could write a fearful and terrible rhap- sody anent Lee Hung’s place, stamp- ing Lady Nell with tragedy and so forth. Yet it was really not so bad. Perhaps you have never been in Bangkok. Lee Hung's “English and American Bar” was on the west bank of the Menam river, down a bit from the Tachin railway station. Thus, vou will observe that it was hearly opposite the legations, customhouse and wharves. A very convenient lo- cation in some ways—handy to the shipping trade. Lee Hung was a flat-faced yellow gentleman who regarded the Siamese a$ barbarians. He catered only to foreigners and wealthy Chinese—to gentlemen only, be it noted. He had an expert Australian barmaid, and a dozen girls who got a percentage of the drinks. There were gam- bling rooms, over which Lee himself presided, while Lady Nell had charge of the dance hall. to her lip: zee it? Nay Our blue-law enthusiasts would think all the perfectly horrible, naturally, but read on. Lady Nell was a handsome creature of thirty- odd—dark and dashing, abrim with a reckless vitality, ever a gay spendthrift of her inner self. It is true that she smoked; so do ladles. It is true that she drank sometimes; 8o do ladies. There, however, the comparison ends; for Lady Nell was not a lady, and no man took her name lightly In fact, you must not think evil of Lady Nell or any of Lee Hung girls. This was no place for com- mon seamen, decadent artists or vers librettists. One did not even get drunk in this place. I have sald that Lee Hung was a gentle- man; also he was a peculiar man, with extraordinary notions of hon- or and pride. When no white vis- itors were here his yellow friends ‘came and drank and indulged in witty talk with the girls, and went home happy. Honi soit! * %k % % OW, there was one peculiar thing about Lady Nell. ~When of- ficers of coasters or merchant ves- sels were in the bar she was ever curipus about other men in their profession. Oftenest she would ask 1€ they knew a certain John Hanson, an American, who had been mate in a Sydney Island trader ten years pre- viously. One gathered vaguely that she had known this Hanson. She never:got any news of him, however—that is, any definite news, for go one In these parts knew or eave@ anything about the archipel- ‘aga. All they knew about was thelr own little world. .Once an officer from a Fluviales boat spoke of a Hanson in command of a Saigon river steamer; but that Hanson was a black Dane. And once a braw Scots engineer knew of a John Hanson in the Bombay trade who had died years agone, but this was vaguely sald, spoken only with a desire to please. ‘And Zomy Sal said nothing at all. i She only sat and smiled and listened, l while slowly the English sun and fog were driven out of her cheeks by the Menam river mists. One night two men came into the English bar together, ordered ale and dropped into the settle by the fire- place for a bit of private talk.’ This was long before dancing hours. Zomy Sal was the only girl in view, and she was sitting over some Sew- mzhe two men were officers from 2 Dutch packet in the stream, and they talked in Hollandsch. After the ale was gone they began to drink Hol- lands; and after this, they began to talk in less guarded tones. One of them was a dark man with a ragged black beard, gray-: -streaked, and a very bad and morose eye. The|¢¢ other was younger, sneering in his manner, world. ernoon at the Samsen gambling pa- Was he not famous down in the is- lands for always having those Bank of England notes in his belt? That is, unless rumor lied! He'll have it, right enough—all ready for u: Houtman regarded his companion with-a very cynical air. “You are young, Koln," he sald. “You are young, and you make light of great things. This Cap'n Hanson is no small matter. Perhaps you never heard how three men tried to kill him and take that money, once in Amboina when he was drunk. “Ja, I heard,” scoffed Koln. “Three men from a Thursday Island pearler, fighting men! And this Cap'n Hanson broke them all to pleces, maimed them, killed one of them! Well, what of it? I may be young, but by heav- ens I have a head! And I have done things.” “That is true.” Houtman frowned thoughtfully. “Ten thousand pounds in Bank of England notes! He never He never does anything ever | with it. He says that he Is waiting to find the owner. ‘Well, it is known “she’s | that Cap'n Hanson is notscrazy, cer- tainly. Perhaps this money is his fetish, Koln. Did you ever hear of a fetish? In the old days, away back on the west coast— “Never mind prating of your adven- tures In Africa,” struck in Koln—yet with a smile of friendliness that took the edge from his sneer. These two men knew each other well. “I know what a fetish is, ja! And I don't care a snap for all the fetishes on earth. 1 will put-this American captain in heil and we shall divide his money.” He made a sudden cautious sign. “Eh! That girl. Call her over.” Houtman turned and looked at Zomy Sal, beckoned her to join them. She laid down her séwing and came, smil- ing. Now, when Sal smiled, men won- dered. In these ends of earth they sel- dom saw a woman smile with this hearty, pleasant frankness. So, though Zomy Sal was ever silent, men loved to talk with her and buy drinks, for the sake of her quick, warm smile. It took them back to honest things lhey! had nearly forgotten. Yes, one must admit that Lee Hung picked his helpers wisely! He did things wisely, that yellow man. Houtman tried Sal with French ard Hollandsch, to which she shook her head and smiled the more. Halting English made her speak, but her broad | country tongue was beyond gither of these men. Koln watched her with nar- rowed, evil eyes, and finally made an trritated signal to Houtman. Zomy Bal, after a glass of ale, went back to her sewing. “Fetishes mean nothing to me,” said Koln, reverting to their line of talk. “Bah! Iam a man.}’ “So,” observed Houtman, “was the big squarehead “who found ~ Hanson Iving sick on the beach at Medan, one night. He was a man, too! Hanson was sick and weak. None the less, they say that the squarehead reached the residency with 2 broken jaw, a dislo- cated arm and one eye gone. No, no, my friend—I am not afraid! But I am ro longer young, and I am cautious. It s best to take no chances. Hanson is a stranger to this place, has never been here before, and we can do it easily enough if we do it right.” “You're sure of all that?" demanded Koln, quickly. Houtman nodded, smilingly, vaguely. “on. ja! of his was very drunk, and-talked free- | ly. This is Hanson's first trip up thé| coast here. Some one will bring him here to this bar, and this-is the place to work it. No one will'interfere.” Koln's brows lifted in @ question. “But I've always heard that this yellow man was square and honest!” * kK X Sure enough. That mate ! E is. Other men are not. There is a fellow who owes me some an obvious parasite on the | money, in the Guang Tit Lee sawmill Both men had spent the aft-:—the American manager. He will do Nimrod is a the trick for us. The vilions, up the, river, and they were | Straits Company boat, so she'll drop in the sullen mood of men who have | her hook off the Borneo. lost heavily. wrhat barque will be up the river | vept our part of it. said the older man.|arranged.” tomorrow, sure,” ‘Houtman was his name, and he was a second officer. here or not at all, Koln.” “Curse 'your carelessness!” - said Koln, laugh. He was only a supercargo, “It must be done|Dutch The whole affair is as certain as daylight, ex- That must be “All right” Koln lit a thin, pallid cheroot and leaned back. “What's our part of it, then?” “To finish Hanson after he's with a hard and sneering|drugged, and take the money.” Houtman said this simply, coolly. but he had a little good in him. “You | One gathered from his air that it was for our kind of a job!” “It is safe” asserted the other, placidly I should know! And we know that ~ geem to think that only Siam is safe| entirely a business proposition with him. Zomy Sal went on with her sewing, fingering his ragged beard.| silent as usual, but no longer smiling. Down around the Banda and Ara- Hanson will have the money with | fura seas, where he was best known, him.” * % k% ATURALLY.” sald Koln dryly. “N Capt. John Hanson was a marked man. Al pecullar skippers are marked _“He always has is with him. ! men, of course, hut Hanson was the marked man. This, by rea n«ot the ten thousand pounds in the ‘money belt around his waist. The whole archipelago knew about it and some of tae archipelago Fad moved hearen and earth to get hold of it. There was some deep secret about that money; no one knew just what. Hanson, finding the story had some- how slipped out, merely sald that he carried the money in trust and was seeking the owner. Amnother man would have lied and scolfed at the story, but not Hanson. Another man would have banked the money, but not Hanson. That money was safer in his belt than in any bank, he considered. And rightly enough, so. far as his own ship was concerned. . No one who knew him would ever 'try for that money. As a rule, he was off poking around through the distant islands—he had even been to the Kermadecs. He had the air of a man restlessly seeking. On the night after the Nimrod _had pulled up the river to Bangkok and dropped her hook, ‘Hanson came | ashore. He came into the “English and American bar,” in company with one Ben Almond, who managed a sawmill along the stream. Almond was an American of sorts, or had been one. He was a plausible chap, always in debt; he was not strong enough to be bad, but he was furtive. And there was nothing decent about him, except his plausible air. Lee Hung had once put out of the place, for reason, and ordi- narily would never have allowed him entrance again. On this particular night, however, Lee Hung was too busy to watch things. Lady Nell was down with an attack of river fever, and all hands were rushed. L \ GO the two men came into the Eng- lish bar, and sat themselves down. Cap'n John Hanson looked about, with only a flicker of interest, at the crowd. With his seaman's cap off, he looked older,- showed much gray hair about the temples. He was not a big man at all, this skipper of the Nimrod. He was quite lanky, even thin. The effect of his hooked nose and square chin was dampened by a certain weary air in his eyes. Now he appeared rather disgusted with his companion. “I don't care for this sort of place,” he said mildly. “Loose women—" Ben Almond snickered. “It aint wha! it seems, Cap'n—not a bit of it! Try anything on with these gals, and they’'ll show you what for! So'll Lee Hung.” The heavy brows of Hanson went up. “So? You can’'t mean—" “I do, though” Almond looked about impudently. “I don’t savvy it myself. Tried to make a date with one of the girls, and I thought Lee Hung would knife me! I guess they're straight enough.” H Later this remark was to make some money for Almond, but he did not dream it now. “You know,” he went on, “it's rot- ten hard for a white woman, on her uppers, to keep straight in these parts, Cap'n! You know how it is— blimed hard. Mebbe that's why Lee Hung went into business. These | Chinks are the devil for queer notions. I've heard he's a reg'lar father to ‘em, sends ’em back home, and so forth. Yes, I guess the girls are all straight enough.” “Coming from you,” mEes l said Hanson carelessly, “that is a tremendous af- firmation.” : | Hanson went on looking about the. room. As for Almond, he was rather slow in sensing what had just been said. When he did understand it—when he realized that Hanson, in a tone of careless disregard, had classed him with the lowest of the low—the man’s face paled horribly. «Have a ciga,” he said in a stran- gled vnlce‘ “Got some Americanai here.” He laid several cigars on the table. Twb bore the g‘lldy bands of im- ported Havanas. ‘With an exclama- tion of mild pleasure Hanson took one of these and lighted it. It was singular to note the supreme disdain with which Hanson treated the man who had brought/him here. Perhaps, seated under the lights, he had found something in° Almond's face which he had missed previously. Yet something of this same air, toward everything and every one around him, could be found in the gaze of Capt. John Hanson. It was no truculence. It Was not as though he considered himself better than ! others. Not that at all! Nor was it the weary aloofness. Rather, those deep eves. after their first flash of interest, appeared tg. THAT SMILE OF YOURS IS THE FINEST THING I'VE SEEN IN "I‘HFSF TEN YEARS.” son with a wave of his cigar. Even : they were to get you when you left.” o Hanson removed the cigar from be- tween his teeth, and sat back in his chair. hold everything here in disregard, as though the man had nothing in com- mon with the scene. All around were officers from many ships, both of the line and of the marine—honest laughter, quick snatches of many tongues, catches of feminine voices. From the other room the wheeze- bang of native music, scrape of danc- ing feet, clatter of chips—the throb and thrill of high-pitched amusement, of frank gayety. Yet the man was never stirred by it at all. He seemed thinking of something else. “Why the deyil don't that gal bring the drinks?” "snarled Almond sud- denly. “Real booze here. None o' your cursed rotgut—" EE A WHITE-CLAD Chinese boy, the first who had appeared in this bar, slipped through the thronsg. Deftly and with apologies he made: kis way to the two men. Down be- fore Ben Almond he laid a folded chit. “You telly my, yes-no,” he said softly. Almond opened lhe paper and read the message—a curt command from Lee Hung to get out. A pallid fury leaped athwart his face. He wiped the look away, stified the oath on his lips and looked up at the skipper. “I got to see & man In a hurry, Cap'n,” he said. “It's a hell of a note! But it's a business deal—"" “Don’t mention jf,” returned Han- “SMILE AGAIN —BY GEORGE! as he spoke, his eyes wandered care- lessly. It meant nothing to “him, nothing at all. Almona departed, sitting there. A moment later Zomy Sal came by and smiled at Hanson. She paused before him and spoke. He frowned, listened, made her repeat three times before he understood that she wanted to speak with him. Then he nodded | and ordered a drink. He scrutinized her curiously. “What language is that you speak?" he inquired. “Good Lord, girl, I can’t understand a thing you say!" True enough. She was absolutely unintelligible to him—that broad| Somerset burr was all Greek to his American ears. Suddenly she plunged into excellent Hollandsch. “My father was often in Holland,” she explained. “He was a sea cap: leaving Hanson jood!” said Hanson, still studying her face. “That's good, girl. Smile | again—by George, that smlle of yours | is the finest thing I've seen these|; ten years!” But Zomy Sal did not smile. stead, she returned his Intent look. “That man with you,” she said, “he meant to drug you. Two men were in here last night, and they talked in Hollandsch—they did not know I un- derstood. He was to drug you, and In- His deep eyes had changed ; a little flame had come into His muscles had tensed, so that he seemed to be awkwardly pois- ed in his chair. - “Good for you!” Re sald calmly. “I thought there was something odd about that chap picking up such a friendship for me. Had my eye on him. Who were those other two men? Dutchmen?” Now Zomy Sal- smiled again, and right merrily. “Yes! And I fooled them nicely. There names were Houtman and Koln; you don’t know them. But tell me, Capt. Hanson! Were you ever mate in an island trader out of Syd- ney, a schooner called the Avu-avu? Ten years ago!” The effect of this ‘question upon John Hanson was extraordinary. For an instant his dark eyes closed; otherwise he did not move a muscle. One would have said that those eyes closed to shut out the world. to shut in a~prayer drawn from the man's soul. Then the eyes opened, dwelt upon the girl with a singular intensity. “Yes,” said Hanson. “I was." Zomy Sal was perhaps a little dis- appointed at his manner. She lean- ed forward and spoke again in her good European Hollandsch. “And did you once carry a rich man | was | flash. He lifted a hand to his head. " An Adveriture Story fever,” Sal's broad face beamed hap-) pily. “She was talking in her sick- ness today,” and I heard it all. I knew phe had asked every one who came here for news of you, and I thought you were the man. Now she's afraid that if she ever did find you, you would think that we were not honest because we work here— that she had not been good. But she has.” These last words were entirely ig- nored, brushed aside unheard. “Upstairs!” sald Hanson. Some- thing like a shiver passed over his spare, lithe body. He shook it off |and put the cigar in his mouth again. “Ten years! Ten years!” There was awe in his volce. Suddenly he stirred, sat up, reached with fumbling fingers for his cap. “Look here,” he sald, a touch of acerbity in his tone. “I feel sick. I had fish for supper—must ha' been} tainted. But I have to see her——" “You can’t,” said Zomy Sal with finality. “She’'s asleep now, and sweating. She'll be all right tomer- row. You come back and see her then.” “All right.” Hanson came to his feet. He had a bit of difficulty finding the floor with him. He fished a sovereign from Ris pocket and laid it on the table. “I'll be back In the morning.” he sald, his voice oddly thick. “Back in the morning, girl. Don’t you tell her now! I've got her dad's money—been carrying it ten years until 1 saw her again. Heard she'd been rescued— couldn't find any trace—God, how I've prayed for these ten years past! I'll be back."” He went out of the place like a man drunk. Zomy Sal gazed after him, simple adoration in her eyes. It was a romantic moment for Sal—a great moment! Neither of them reflected that it might not have been the drinks that were doped, but the cigar. * ok k% OU can readlly perceive what a tremendous story, a tale to wring the very heart, Theodore Brunt could make out of this situation! How Hanson died, and Lady Nell never saw him, perhaps. Or how the ten years were to end only in the agony | of misunderstanding, how the skip- | per would condemn Lady Nell as a bad woman, and how she would end up in a Chinese harem, and so forth. That's like Brunt—short and bitter, ] reptilian! But there is one bet that Theodore Brunt has overlooked. Capt. John Hanson went out of the | “English and American Bar" into the j darkness. He staggered down to the landing at the mouth of the creek, guided bys the paper lanterns. His feet hit with 2 hard uncertainty on the teak planks. He knew that boats waited there, and he could easily get a lift to the Borneo wharves. He was thinking only of the won- derful thing that had happened—all his swimming thoughts were center- | ed on this. After ten years! “Boat, capt'n?’ sald a voice. “Yes,” returned Hanson quickly. “To the Borneo—barque Nimrod.” “Right. Here y'are, sir.” Two men grasping his elbows, Han- son stepped down into the waiting boat. As she lurched to his weight, something struck him heavily in the back of the heally BpHl he fellf * “Let him lle in the bilge,” muttered Koln. “So much the better if he drowns. Now, get away from here first, and go through him afterward.” “Good,” said Houtman. “Straight downstream, then across.” The boat melted into the shadows. When Capt. John Hanson came to hiniself, the light of the morning sun was striking through the port of his own cabin and blinding his eyes. He lay in his own bunk. Sitting in a chair and watching him in anxiety his mate, an old Australian cockney who had been long with him, in many .ships. Hanson lay for a long moment looking into the eyes of his mate. Then he remembered everything in a The fingers trembled, shook visibly, but not from the pain of his hurt. | Brunt has overlooked. by H. Bedford-Jones said Hanson very . “What happened to me?" ou got it,” said the mate morose- “You've been bleedin’ weli arsk- in' for it. ain't you? Ten years— huh! A coolie fetched you aboard with your ’ead stove in; that's wot!” Automatically, by sheer habit, the hand of Hanson went to his belt— and dropped. “Huh,” assented the mn!e glumly. “They got it, all right! It's gone.” A sudden smile broke out in the face of John Hanson—a smile such as the old mate had never seen there before, a glorious and splendid smile. “Get me a boat,” said the skipper, his voice gaining strength. “I'm goipg across the river.” - “No, you ain’t!” cried the mate, alarmed. “You're off your ruddy ‘ead, that's wot! And you ain't shaved. Gray ’airs stickin’ out all over your chin—-" Hanson made a violent effort. He swung up, rocked to his feet, stood unsteadily. “Confound you—go get me a boat!” “Listen ‘ere!” pleaded the mate. “Let me ‘tend to it, sir! You aint in no shape to go after that ‘ere bleedin’ money— “Damn the money!” roared John Hanson, 8o that his voice shook the cabin. He laughed exultantly as he swayed there. “Damn the mnney!‘ Get me a boat, or I'll show you who's master of this hooker So John Hanson, gray hairs and all, went across the river to flnfl. the woman he had met and lost ten! years since. And mith the next night! | “Ten years! huskily, the Nimrod had gone her way. TE X % ¥ IT was three nights later that the “English and American Bar” wit- nessed a peculiar scene. ~ Two men, who had spent the past day at the Samsen gambling house, and who had won huge sums there, left their boat and lurched arm in arm up to Les Hung’s place. They were both half drunk, and exuded mpney at every pore. One was Koln, the other Houtman. They came in as though they owned the place, scattering largesse profusely. To the general surprise] and astonishment, Lee Hung himsels met them and graciously conducted them to a private room. These two men were vociferous in stating what they wanted. One thing they desired was a girl with red cheeks, a girl who smiled. Lee Hung informed them, deprecatingly, that Zomy Sal had gone away. She had gone to Singapore with friends, and was not coming back. Now, just what took place in this private room is a mystery. And it is not wise to speculate in public upon anything that Lee Hung wishes to re- main a mystery. In any event, upon the following dawn Houtman and Koln were putj aboard their own ship by a coolie| boatman. They were stripped naked and were drunk—or drugged. How- {ever. their captain was delighted to see them, since he was leaving with the tide. And so they pass out of the story. About the time Houtman and Koln were leaving Bangkok, the estimable Lee Hung was mailing two letters. One of these, containing an extreme- 1y large draft on the Hongkong and Shanghai Bank, was addressed to: Mrs. John Hanson, care the Straits| Company, Singapore. The other letter was opened on the following day by one Ben Almond. He opened it with astonishment and suspicion. His astonishment became stupefaction when he found a Bank of England note for £100, and a brief scrawl: “From Captain Hanson. For services rendered.” Almond turned the note over and over, read the scrawl again, scratched | his head. “Well,” he observed, “I'm damned Never could understand that fellow! What a magnificently tragic and horrible story could be made out o(' all this by the genius of Theodore Brunt¥ Yet there is one bet that 1 It is found in the first verse of the fourteenth Psalm. t (Copyright, 1922.) AROUND THE CITY || i ORMER President Wilson has for one disciple an ancient man whose outlook on life is through | a knotaole in the back fence of obscurity—though, at that, he gets a| clearer slant on conditions than some of | us holders of reserved seats at !.he‘ world's front door. 1t you have any old papers to give him, and he considers you quality in-| stead of poor white trash, he likes to discourse with a knowledge that comes | from being able to “stedy out” the news of the day, with a courtly deference that is a memory of his slave youth, and with an inborn ability that comes from —where! “Yessum, it 'pears as if the republicn pahty is in powsh, but T has my hopes! My family’s. ben democrats eveh sence the rev'lutionary wan, an befo' that we was tories—for why? Englan’ had ginnus plenty of good land, an’ most of | us bein’ fahmahs an’ doctors an’ cluggy- men, we had'n no quarl to pick—an’ I'm a democrat today. I'm a’ leaguernation ! democrat, same as President Wilson— for why? Nations is like hens. If you got & g0od, roomy chicken run fenced in, them hens gwine lay aigs in straw nes's whar they can set in comfort an’ hatch out thutteen chickens fum thut- teen afgs. If you ain't got o chicken run, them hens gwine kite off an’ drap and his daughter to Rarotonga? And | aigg whar weazels c'n steal ‘em, an’ the was the ship wrecked? * ok K * THE features of Capt. Hanson, brown as rosewood under the cap-line, became overspread with a mortal pallor. His nostrils became' pinched, whitish. In his eyes shone agohy. “Oh, God, have I found her at last?* he muttered in English. It was actually a question addressed to his Creator. b “Yus!” saild Zomy Sal triumphantly. “Yus!"” A frightful effort, 2 spasmodic contortion of the facial muscles, passed across the countenance of the skipper., He was himself again, shrewdly alert. “What d’you mean, girl?” he de- And Wwas, few chicks they goes get outn’ the shells nearly every one drowned—nearly?” |is jeg 80 many medls for hawks—yes- sum. “They tells me they's a whole passler nations ovan in that Europe place whar President Wilson went, an’ what he was aimin’ at was to gettem all fenced in safe and soun’, so they could hatch out all the good Iyck that was -a’‘comin’ to 'em, with nobody nigh for to hindah— becawse why? Becawse no enemies that was atter "em could clim’ the fence. That's clai, ain't it, lady.” It was a crystal ball for clearness, only —few people bother with mflu balls these days. * K Kk % FIDORWALKERS and diplomats are cast in the same mold—it is the luck in borning that makes the différence. It isn't every ambassa- | spoils herself. can take it from any woman who knows, that a first-class floorwalker, no matter where you pick him up, | has the brain stuff to outfit a whole legation. Therefore, the experience of one of them should be worth con- ! sidering: “A woman is nedrly always spoiled. If she hasn't a good husband or pa- rente to do it, she goes ahead and 1t is the child in her that subconsciously wants to be ‘babled’ There are exceptions, nat- | urally; they stand for the sacrifices of the world, seldom for its romances. “A woman feels that she owns her butcher and her pastor; her special clerk in the store she deals with, and‘ the policeman on her beat. She bosses them all around, but when you get right down to it, she has a child’s faith in each of them—the faith of a trusting chili—allowing for the always exceéptions, understand. No matter how strong and sensible and seif-reliant women are for fifty- nine minutes in the hour, they are children on the sixtieth. “I'll give you one little illustra- tion"—but he didn't, for the reason that two women dripped in from the storm and made a sappy beeline to- ward him; one of them fighting mad and the other following, With the im- portance that tomes of moral sup- port—umbrella to be changed, be- cause “it wouldn't stay up.” Still, a good opinion is always| worth passing oy * ¥ X X UST for fun, & woman counted nearly two hundred half-smoked cigarettes littering the ground around a track. Then she figared out the why of the waste: A young fellow will light his cigarette while wait- ing for a car and have to throw it away after a few puffs. Other men, young and old, will pause outside of business houses’ to light up, while exchanging a word or two before going inside. Add the whole clty full of stubs, multiply them by every other city and every day in the year manded sharply. “Who told you this| dor, of course, who poss the| __and the r,!un ‘5 enough money varn?" ituil line of qualifications to hold !y pay® - r bonus. i “She's upstairs, sick with the down & JOh of aisle manager, but you | : .\A‘\Mb LANCASTER. “Motoring Through the South” ! By Ring W. Lardner. O the Editor: Not more tran seven cr eight years ago there was great excitement in the state of Florida, when a car came along with a Tennessee license or some other place way up north and everybody wondered who the folks was that had ali that nerve and patients to make such a long trip and how long it had took them and ete. In those days the auto routes between the northern states and Florida was so bad that they wouldn't IN A SUNDAY EVENING, WITH A STARIN 3 THE EYE!" nobody undertake such a trip unless they was he blooded red Americans with a whole lot of spare time on their hands to say nothing about a passion for misery. - Now days, however, the roads ain't impossible no more, but just plain rotten and the result of same is that the sunshine state is infested with Fords that is too old to stand the riggers of a northren winter though if a machine can go through some of | man told me that sponge fishing was one of the biggest industrys in Greece and when the greeks heard that they was a school of sponges spongeing off Tarpon Springs why they all left their own happy spongeing grounds and flocked over here. It struck me as kind of funny that greeks should be leaders in this amusement as I never yet seen a greek that looked like a sponge lover, but I suppose it is the same like other professions like for inst. you don't hardlly ever see a YOU TAKE A THIRTEEN-MILE RIDE ON A NINE-FOOT ROAD CONSTANT LINE OF HEADLIGHTS sales gal in the ladies hosiery that ain’t got a run in her stocking. But anyway we went over to see greeks and sponges on their home grounds and the greeks looked just like all other greeks and the sponges the same only that they cost more here than any- wheres else on acct. of this being where they catch them. * ok ok ok PUT what I started to say was that we made the return trip after them shell holes in Georgia Without|{dark and we had to have our head a general nervous break down, it is hard to see what a littie ice and snow could do to it. To hear some of the boys tell it, Dempsey’s sparring part- ner has a light occupation compared with marching through Georgia in a flivver. In most states where they have got rough roads, why, once in awhile you come to a bridge made out of wood or something smooth, are going across it. why, you get a little rest from being shook up. But though they have got as many rivers in Georgia as anywhere else. why, Gen. Sherman blowed up all the bridges, and they haven't had time vet to get 10 work replacing them. so automobile has to be ferried, and they say that after you have been ferried across one of them rivers in Georgia you begin to think that the three lost balloonists were just joy riding. . * % % % PUT what T was going to say was that a few years.ago, when au- tomobile tourists from the north was still scarce in Florida, why the na- tive Florida motorists began making a drive for good roads, and they got them; and brick roads was built all over Florida, which is as smooth and | nice as any roads anywhere, but the! people that built them had the idea that they wouldn't be nobody to use them only the Florida people, and Florida people is generally always so stuck on their home town that they don't mever go nowheres else on when they have to. So it was nat- lural to figure that they wouldn't never be more than one motorist using the roads the same day. So the roads was built for this one guy them all to himself, that is, until the northern Fords became migratory birds. Now days motoring in Florida is a different game, and people with chick- en hearts is advised to stay out of it. ‘The nine-foot boulevards is O. K. as long as you don’t meet nobody, but ‘when you do you have got to do one of three things—either run into them and take a chance that they will get the worse of it or else move off of the road or else cancel your arrange- ments for the day and back up to vherever you started from. Florida automobiles has all. most all of them, got a plate inscribed with the name of the town where they come from, so if they happen to meet an- other car that won't give ground, why the survivor will know where to mail the parts. They have also got their eight stamped on their license plate. which is done as a kind of a alibi for whatever happens to them in a col- lision, like for instance, suppose there was a big car from Philadelphia met a little car from Florida, and they | wouldn’t neither of them jump off of the road or back up, and the littie Florida car got all smashed up, why the man that owned it could show you the license plate where it tells what | the cars weighs and then he could say no wonder he licked me, as he out-' weighed me 2,300 pounds. * k * * FLORIDA man told me a wile ago that the state was jam full of automobile tourists clubs which I suppose corresponds to our suicide clubs up north. Jokeing to 1 side it takes a good game guy to go touring in Florida let alone make a habit of it and personly T got pretty near cnough of same on 2 short trips one of which was on a Sunday P. M. which they's mo reason for th€ northern tourists to gum up the rds. on a Sun- day any more than any other day as they are down here on their vacation and all days is alike. But T suppose habit is as strong with Fords as any- body else and if you leave them shut up in the barn on a Sunday they get restless and raise he—ll. Well the trip I took on a Sunday was from Belleair to Tarpon Springs which somebody told us we should ought to go there and see the sponge lay out. It seems that Tarpon Springs is the biggest sponge fisherys in the world which as far as I am concerned they's no argument. but anyway the sponge fishermans is all greeks and a and while you| | Mrs. Horatio Van ¥ lights all lit up and so did the other cars comeing towards us and when vyou take a 13 mile ride on a 9 ft. road on a Sunday evening with a constant line of head lights stareing you in the . why T haven't no wds to describe same though our driver had a good supply and used tha most of them. RING W. LARDNER. LISTEN, WORLD! | ! BY ELSIE ROBINSON. et is much dis- turbed. Now, Mrs. Van Fleet is not easily disturbed. spite of her sev- enty years, she manages to receive the changing days with cheerful tol- erance. But there is one thing which she cannot abide, and her prefudice against this is backed strenuously by the cultured circles in which she moves. This one thing is a typewritten per- and he had| | i | sonal Tetter. Mrs. Van Fleet fecls that a typewritten personal letter is an abomination and an affront to the j recipient. According to her, it is not {only bad form but ft is a menace to all our cts for beauty, to our most cherished traditions and sacred sentiments—to everything, in short, lum dignifies and adorns human con- tact. I That's what Mrs. Van Fleet thinks And I think that what she thinks is | tommy rot. You might as well weep |targe, salty tears ana say that the holy state of matrimony is imperiled because wives no longer sew their | husbands’ shirts by hand. The es- thetes made a similar fuss when sew- ing machines were introduced. You'd | have thought the devil was concealed |in the shuttle. Are hubby's shirts any less sacred | because they are turned out whole- sale at a factory than when the mak- {Ing of them involved cndless strain \ | on wifey’s eves and temper? Is the well known baked bean any less hon- orable because we vuy it in a can in- stead of baking it ourselves for hours in @ hot kitchen, thus liberating our- selvgs for pleasurable hours else- where? 1s little Johnny's neck any less precious and clean or mother love any less sanctified because sfie now uses drug store soap on little John- ny nstead of “rolling her own™ out of kitchen drippings and lye? Why In time should a letter contain more or the writer's soul quality when it is composed in bad penman- ship rather than in perfectly good typewriting. If onc of the purposes of a personal letter be to show con- sideration and afford pleasure, then where did William shakespeare get oft? As far as chirography goes, a fifth-grade graduate from a dog do tor's college was William's peer. Me for the lil' round keys! —_— ‘When oak is buried in water or in wet sand it will last for centuries. Oak piles under bridges constructed by the Romans 2,000 years ago have been found to be as sound as when they were first put in position. .