Evening Star Newspaper, December 29, 1929, Page 84

- A LITTLE WHOOPEE in BY H. I. SHUMW AY. ARTHIA (a two-wheel brake town with one near-railroad and no steam- boats; population 1920 census, 8,389) was dead. At.least so thought Mr. J. Duke Bradstreet, newly arrived there—and its self-appointed promoter. He had bought into the town with his purchase of the Jupiter Tapioca Works. And now that it. was .going along, shooting its merry quota of tapioca, he sought to con- quer other worlds, namely, ‘putting the old sleepy town on thé map. New Year was com- ing pretty soon and it would be a good way to pass another milestone. And now Mr. Bradstreet, togged out as the lily and full of pep, stepped debonairly into the doorway of the Carthia Weekly Clarion to see what could be done about this Rip Van Winkle of . villages. # fif. R. Waldo Biggers, young editor of the Clarion, looked up at the vision of sartorial ele=- gance without a visible shock. Superman, ‘Waldo. “H'lo,” greeted Mr. Bradstreet. “Thought I'd drop in and see how things were going. How goes the Clarion?”. 3 L. R - Mr. Biggers, who was young but looked old, peered through his shell-rimmed glasses like a well seasoned owl. “The Clarion moves along, I am happy to say,” he intoned. an—" “Oh, it does?” observed Mr. Bradstreet, with & bit of a crackle in his voice.: “Then ‘why the heck don’t you make a daily out of it? We got to boom this old town, see? And you can help by turning this' paper into a rip-roaring daily. Now, let’s see—-"" Mr. Biggers shuddered. “Ye gods! howling daily out of the dear old Clarion—that time-honored organ—that hallowed—-—" “SBure. Let it howl every afternoon. Howl so Joud they can hear it-in the néxt county. Now Jook here, Wally (Mr. Biggers shuddered afresh at this frightful indignity. Wally!) Now, look here, Wally; you just lick your pencil dnd I'll take care of the news. I'm going to make news happen here. And the Daily Clarion is going to help., Yes, sir!” . K s d Mr. Biggers was shaken to" his depths.” He had heard of this awful Mr. Bradstreet, even h he was a newcomér. He was a terrible fitm and_ had’ a Svengalic way of making e do things,” impossible things that they didn't want to.” - ¢ ; “Unhurried, unflustered, $¢YWALDO,” beamed Mr. Bfadstreet, empha-~ ‘7 sizing his remarks by banging his fist into the palm of his hand. “Waldo, it means big things for this town—big things for us. You may be mayor! With both of us pushing "at the wheel—well, nothing can stop us.” New Year is only a month away. Things are go- ing to happen before 1930 comes in.” “Now, getting out the Clarion as a daily was bnly a detail. Just mentioned it as a side thought—and as something necessary to further & big scheme I had in mind. Now, Wally, here is the big idea. Listen to papa and what he has thunk up for dear old Carthia. She’s going %o have a thrill or two yet this year.” At the end of half an hour the utterly help- less editor of the Clarion found himself com- mitted to the awful task of becoming editor of a six-arweek paper, putting his shoulder to the wheel of ballyhooing a town that had been asleep for a hundred years—and, worse still, partner to a sort of crime that his tormentor had instigated. Two scant weeks had gone by when the first bomb was heaved into the sleepy little town. On Monday of that week the Clarion had come out boldly as a daily. And four days later there Was a news story that made Carthia sit up and m notice—and before the eddies had died they had ringed their way from coast to coast. This is what howled in heavy black type :orom the front page of the once hallowed Clar- n: LADY GODIVA RIDES AGAIN!!! Beautiful Blond Gallops Through Carthia at Dawn—in the Altogether! Who has not wondered and marveled at the famous Lady Godiva, who rode through the Streets of Coventry, that the taxes of the poor imight be annuled? Was it a legend? Or was it a genuine event? We prefer to believe it true. And, further- Imore, we know now that history does repeat it- self! Right here in Carthia, a beautiful young Woman has repeated that famous ride, a ride that made Paul Revere's look like a feeble stag- ger. Carthia’s Lady Godiva was as beautiful as that other of old Coventry—and as—er—un- ®dorned! On a prancing black horse she galloped through our main street, golden tresses flying in the wind of morning—like a flaming Dawn! The Lady of Mystery swooped down unan- nounced. Hoofbeats have been heard on sev- eral occasions at early morning, but it was not until this morning that the exquisite apparition ‘was seen by mortal eyes. Three reputable citizens of the town saw the oung lady with their own eyes. Mr. J. Duke Bradstreet, owner of the Jupiter Tapioca Works, Wwas out for an early morning stroll about his w factory. He saw the beautiful vision come g around a bend in the road and disappear in a cloud of dust. It couldn't have been more than a minute later when Mr. R. Waldo Big- gers of the Clarion staff opened the window of his room to admire the coming of the dawn, as he often does. Down the street galloped Car- Rthia’s Lady Godiva—beneath his unbelieving feyes! The third involuntary Peeping Tom is a well known man-about-town, Mr. Bolivar Bolles, Mr. Bolles was out for his early morning stroll, Who is the fair Lady of Mystery? Why did she ride thus unclad through our town? And —MOST IMPORTANT of ALL—Will she come @gain? We wonder! We WONDER!!! . THE SUNDAY STAR, WASHINGTON, D. C, DECEMBER 29, 1929, When a One-Horse Town Turns Over a Lea f and Starts the New Year With a Hun- dred-Horsepower Promoter, Most Anything Can Happen, and in This Story It Does. Make a* . WAB Carthia surprised? And did the Clarion 'sell out that edition? And was there any chit-chat on the corners and around the Man- sion House? Oh, boy And not the least of the points noted was Editor Biggers’ intimation that the fair and un- clad rider would ride again. Mr, Bradstreet called at the Clarion office, swinging a gay cane and very happy. = “Hah!” said the promoter. “I guess we turned over something that time.” “Shush!” warned Mr. Biggers. “The very walls have ears. What happened to the lady? God—but she was beautiful! Beautiful! - The fairest creature I have ever seen. The loveli- est——" 2 Mr. Bradstreet studied him thoughtfully. “Oh, she got through O. K. The car met her out in the woods and they whisked her away to her— her quarters, some distance away.” He seemed secretive about this. “Get any word from the outside papers—the big ones?” The editor groaned.” “Did I? One of the news associations got hold of it and wired for full details. By night it will be all over the country. I tell you, hiring a lady—such a beau- tiful lady—to ride through the town—with no clothes on is dangerous.” “She had on - flesh-colored something or other. She only looked naked.” “She looked very lovely, indeed,” sighed Mr. Biggers, dreamily. “So very sweet—er—what I mean, you wouldn't have known it was silk——" “Behave yourself, Wally.,” Mr. Bradstreet low= ered his voice. “Listen, now. The lady will ride again Thursday morning, just at dawn. But not a word. Hint at a specter if you like. That would be good touch-stir-up argument. That's that. Now here's the next. A wonderful discovery will take place on Mr. Lem Boutwell's old farm week after next.” “Discovery?” exclaimed the startled Mr. Big- gers. “Of what?” “Beer! A real beer spring!” “I—I supose it's as genuine as—as Lady Go- diva?” hinted the editor. “More so. This is the real raw stuff. A very neat little engineering feat. Best job of piping I ever saw. I hope to tell you that when the world knows that amid a leafy bower in the purlieus of beautiful Carthia a spring of real beer gently trickles—well, can you see any vis- itors coming to town?” “Whew!"” whistled Mr. Biggers. THE telephone rang. Mr. Biggers answered and then followed a long conversation, which seemed to fluster the already nervous literary Louder sounded the hoofbeats . . . and then around a bend in the road shot a vision none of the three would ever forget...Carthia’s mysterious Lady Godiva! e arthia man to even more tremendous heights. He wiped his moist forehead as he hung up. “That was the Gargoyle Picture News Com- pany. They take news reels—movies, you know. And they smell something. They’re sending an operator down here. What—what had we bet- ler do?” Mr. Bradstreet seemed to expand with emo- tion. “What'll we do? Leave that to me. Lady Godiva of Carthia rides when I tell her to— and I have a hunch that Mr. News Reel Man will see her—I even think I can pick out a nice strategic point where he can set up his camera, Hum, hum. Well, so long, Wally. Keep the home wires burning! News is apt to break any time now.” Carthia’s boom was on . . . it was more than a boom . .. it was a boom-boom! On Thursday morn—came the dawn! And with it—came Carthia’s Lady Godiva! - In their hiding place in a clump of trees, just outside the town limits, huddled a little group—Ma Bradstreet, Editor Biggers and the Gargoyle News Reel Man. “What makes you think this dame is gonnms ride this morning’?” asked the skeptical camera~ man. “I don’t know,” explained Mr. Bradstreet. “But folks have been hearing hoofbeats—heard ‘em yesterday about dawn. Npbody saw anye thing——" The six _ears strained—the three hearts pumped a little faster! 3 “Hoofbeats!"” hoarsely whispered the camera~ man. , “Lemme swing. this' camera free. - Get outta my way! Darn the light! I'll have to use a 1.9 wide open—slow the exposure. Oh, for a little real sunlight!” Louder- sounded the hoofbeats. And then around a bend in the road shot a vision none of the -three would ever forget. Bent gracefully over the black, arched neck of the flying horse, the golden vision of loveliness leaned. She seemed hardly real in the eerie light of the rosey dawn. A clatter of hoofs—a cloud of dust—and she was gone! . 2 ; “The real stuff!” whispered the cameraman. “I've got-the neatest bit of film in- my career. Get me a car—I'll buy a car—I've got to get to New York with this while it's hot. Oh, boy!” AS the big snowball of news gathered size, stray folk began to write in and come. in. Carthia had gotten into the limelight with a bang. Mr. Bradstreet established a tourist bu- reau and information booth for strangers. Peo- ple. with an “I want to know” expression on their faces drifted in with every train. And Mr. Bradstreet paild a visit to the only real estate agent in town, Mr. Cadwallader Snow. Mr. Snow was 8 man of parts—three parts. He was furniture dealer, undertaker and real estate agent. He had never been real busy in his career, even if he did play these three potent roles. He groaned when Mr. Bradstreet inquired how husiness: was. 3 “Mr. Snow,” buzzed the promoter, * is on the eve of a“"great boom. Real estate is due for a fine burst. And—if you need a partner—well, I'm available.” . The two looked at-each other. “I guess I understand you,” murmured Mr. Snow, who knew his furniture, corpses and land. “I guess maybe you and me might get together.” Perhaps the wildest place, next to the Clare ion’s chaotic plant, was the Old Mansion House. This sole hostelry of Carthia hadn’t opened its dusty third floor since it was built. It now began to have a bulging look about it. The office overflowed with various new species of humanity in great numbers. Restless peo= ple ‘with an “I want to know™" expression on their faces. The old year was having a glorious wind-up. . The Gargoyle News Man came back ‘to town within 24 hours after his hurried departure with plenty of film. And Lady Godiva rode again, five days after her second trip. She was seen—and photographed once more in the dawn's early light! “How did the first film come out?” inquired * Mr. Bradstreet, “When I take 'em they stay took,” gracefully admitted the cameraman. “I got her good and plenty, even if the light was rotten. Action— and how! That film is shown all over the United States two days after I snap it. That's whl{s the Mansion House ought to have rubber Mr. Bradstreet nodded happily. “Our town Continued om Nineteenth Page